


Bewahren (or, Safekeeping)

by Arkeis07



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Lophiiformes - Freeform, Other, POV Alternating, Post Ep 36, Summer Society, Zeta Omega Mu, the Pit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 103,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3971353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkeis07/pseuds/Arkeis07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following Carmilla's return from the Pit, the gang struggles with the knowledge that the Dean is not dead, there's an angry ancient monster growling beneath their feet, Silas University holds far too many secrets, and no one is going to save them - except themselves. See through different characters' perspectives on the events that lead to a Final Confrontation, and spoiler alert, ends with polyamory (yayayay).</p><p>Also known as the Bonfire Party in the Pit fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> WELCOME.
> 
> This beast is most definitely the longest piece of fiction I have ever written, and it's taken the longest amount of time to finish (like almost 2 years omg). Canon compliant up till S1EP36.
> 
> Chapters for the most part are written in ~5,000 word segments, but I'm the author so sometimes I do whatever I want, meaning the count may go over or under at any point.
> 
> Babble, babble, babble. Thank you for choosing to involve yourself with a massive part of me. I hope you enjoy.

~~~~

Kirsch winces as his pitch shakes him through his shoulders and disturbs his left arm  - the throw was strong, carrying the weight of Sarah Jane and Will and a good chunk of Brody's frustration and anger, but it still doesn't reach the small pyramid of rubble he and a few of his bros have been chucking cherry-bombs at for the past 20 minutes. Grumbling a little as he readjusts his arm in his sling, he kicks a stone from his path back to the pile of projectile pyrotechnics.

Blonde-haired Zane comes up to him with a hearty slap to his shoulder, "We could have a raging bonfire in this pit, man, like way better than the Luau. There's so much crap to burn already!"

Kirsch hides his wince because no, it didn't hurt, and his gaze is drawn to far edge of the Pit, where the depression steadily descends until the very edge of a dark chasm, which stretches down deep into the unknown. "It'd be a better use for it than whatever this place was before... the brawl."

Zane throws his arm over Kirsch's shoulder, which is a little difficult given that he's about a foot shorter, and pushes two bombs into Kirsch's chest. "Then let's get to work and start clearing some debris, bro."

Zane flicks his lighter and lets his bomb loose through the air in a tight spiral to land just shy of the pyramid-shape dirt pile, where it pops loudly but shakes loose only a fraction of rubble.

"Nice one, bro."

"Nah, needs a bit more arc - "

 Zane steps back again to line up his shot when Kirsch suddenly moves ahead of him - "Hey, hold up - !"

"What, man?"

"Do you see that? Holy crap, is that... an _arm?"_

Kirsch and Zane both bolt to the edge of the pit and clamber down it, leaving a heavy dust trail in their wake. Zane reaches the bottom first and turns to catch Kirsch as he nearly wobbles off balance, his slinged-arm flung uncomfortably high in the air in an attempt at redirection.

"Bro wait, do you have like, a weapon or anything on you?"

Kirsch blinks for a second before looking back at his clenched fist, which opens to reveal the two cherry bombs. He shrugs, and they both head off toward the pyramid-shaped rubble they had just seen a _limb_ pop out of. 

Coming closer to it, Kirsch can see it's a small arm, so probably not another monster minion or whatever the hell the Dean was, and it's pale except for the black wrist cuff studded with silver -

"Dude."

~~~~

 

Dust rises in plumes beneath the soles of Danny's red Converse as she skids to a stop before Carmilla's tomb. Kirsch's uninjured hand briefly touches Danny's shoulder, before she moves past him to climb up the strange pyramid and starts to dislodge chunks of earth. 

The blonde Zeta pipes up behind Kirsch, "So, ah, I don't know nothing about Vamps or whatever, but it, ah... looks real dead, dude, sorry." 

Kirsch leans over and hits Zane in the shoulder. "Bro, hey - her name's Carmilla, and she like, sacrificed herself for her friends. She's a damn hero," and Kirsch climbs up across from Danny.

"Stop being so - " Danny kicks her heel into the stubborn rock " -stupidly dramatic - " she grips hard on a large chunk and throws her body weight back a couple times " - and wake - the hell - up - "

 

Danny's damned if she doesn't throw her all into saving Carmilla now, after the vampire girl swopped in like the Calvary and risked everything for Laura - she can't be dead, not now, not after Danny's spent the last week trying to navigate through Laura's remorse. Danny didn't think Laura could break her heart any further, but she was wrong, because it _killed_ her to see Laura so beyond distraught. Danny's fingers are finding it difficult to gain purchase on the strangely smooth rock covering Carmilla's body - like an earthen cocoon. She reaches into her back pocket and produces a small red multi-tool. Danny throws her hair behind her shoulder as she leans down to carefully drive the blade into crumbling earth, lifting handfuls of dirt and rock away from Carmilla. She digs and cuts away at the tough rock that's trapping Carmilla's seemingly lifeless frame. By the end of it all, Danny has dirt under nails and blood across her palms.

"Hey Summer, why isn't she all dirty? There's not a scratch on her - " 

"I don't know Kirsch, just help me out here, grab her legs- " 

They pull her out of the Pit, just as another quake and roar shakes the campus - The boys and Danny look back just as a loud crack sounds from the depression, and watch as the ground crumbles beneath the pyramid mound that unearthed Carmilla - it is swallowed.

Kirsch lays Carmilla's legs down on the ground, looking up to Danny. "Where do we take her? Do we call campus patrol or something?"

_There's only one place she needs to be right now_

Danny looks down at the convincingly dead vampire in her arms. She's perfectly untouched. Danny can't understand how not even a stain of dirt manage to mark the undead girl, she's not even sure that's a vampire power. There's not a lot of anything that Danny is sure of when it comes to Carmilla - save for Carmilla's devotion to Laura, who's probably in her room and still thinks Carmilla is gone. Danny desperately hopes that's not the case.

 


	2. Stage Setting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the Town Hall, the Superintendent announces himself as the Dean's temporary replacement, while the Lustig Incident is investigated. Laura prepares to leave for Reading Week, and Danny and Kirsch talk about their feelings at a bar (which only happened because of the alcohol, Danny reminds anyone who asks.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter One ~3,000 words.

~~~~

Laura's camera watches as Carmilla enters through the doorway over Laura's shoulder just as a fresh bout of shakes rattles the room, dislodging the dishes in the sink. Carmilla's face communicates exasperated boredom, but she jumps to life when Laura's owl lamp shakes off her headboard - she catches it lightly with one hand and places it safely back in place. The shaking stops and Carmilla dusts the shoulder of her leather jacket as she enters further into the room, "This place is gonna come down around our ears, I swear it."

 

"Yea, that's been happening with a bit more frequency lately, " Laura turns back to address the camera, "Which is worrisome because it's been over a week and we still have no idea what to expect from whatever is born of the unholy union between a sociopathic vampire cult leader and an all-devouring night-light. So far it seems like a really bad case of the tummy grumbles, but like, on a massive scale." Carmilla's head shakes behind Laura as she sits down on her bed, picking up the Sumerian text and opening to a bookmarked page.

 

"Since this is pretty much unprecedented in all of history, there's not much info to be found anywhere," Carmilla leans forward as she explains, " - but there's an unrelated passage here that mentions the merger of consciousness between great powers - and as one might expect, all cases have usually ended with war and strife and lots of death. So." Carmilla shrugs and Laura makes a face.

 

"So, Betty's probably the smartest one of us all and moved out yesterday, and she's officially off to Princeton for the beginning of what I can only hope will be a completely normal scholastic career -"

 

"Meanwhile, _I've_ officially moved in," Carmilla folds her hands behind her and falls back on the leopard print sheets, but her leg catches Laura's chair and drags it closer to Carmilla's bed.

 

"Still a terrible roommate, though." Laura pushes Carmilla's booted feet off her thigh where she had crossed them comfortably. Carmilla brings them back up again. Laura pushes them harder.

 

Just then the dorm room opens and Danny sticks her head in. Carmilla lets her head drop back onto her pillow. "Hey, guys... they've called a Town Hall - the new Superintendent is gonna step in for the Dean, I guess."

 

"Have you seen him yet? Does he seem like a crazy psycho that wants to eat students?" Laura asks with hands gesturing vaguely.

 

Danny shrugs at the doorframe, "Not from what I've heard. He seems pretty unobtrusive. I mean, I guess people are looking for some normalcy after all that's happened. "

 

"Nothing's ever normal here, haven't you learned that by now?" Carmilla snarks from the bed.

 

"It'd be a dream come true if it was! For once I'd like to have a single semester without something strange going on. Regardless of how you've been sitting pretty for decades with multiple degrees, some of us still want to graduate - _and then_ _leave."_

 

"You're a vassal of the Summer Society - you're never leaving Silas."

 

"It must be all those years that you've spent stuck here that's made you so jaded."

Carmilla curls up to her elbows but bends her head over her shoulder with a smug smirk, "Jaded and brooding is part of my sex appeal, Short Stuff. It's the masterful cultivation of an image I've worked hard to maintain. Care to help me spread a few more rumors?"

 

"Gross."

 

"Ok cool it you two," Laura grabs Carmilla's boots and drags them off the bed to the floor, "Your weird flirtatious bickering is gonna make us late."

 

"I'm not flirting! I'm... frustrated!" Danny stands tall in the doorway, but she shrinks back as Carmilla floats past her - "Sexually, you mean?"

 

"For a 300-hundred year old vampire, you can be such a teenager."

 

Laura turns to shut off her camera "I think that's why she can never pick up after herself. C'mon, let's go."

 

~~~~

 

Lola Perry smoothes her hands down the front of her sweater as she sees Danny finally walk into the Town Hall, followed by Laura and Carmilla. Danny throws a nod in her direction as she passes to sit with the rest of her Society Sisters, and Perry returns it curtly. Perry is about to scold Susan (LaFontaine) for fiddling with her ( _their)_ phone when the room's attention is called to the stage.

 

A short man steps up to the podium, balancing two small silver balls in his hand, the other tucked behind his back. He stands there silently for a moment, waiting for the rabble to quiet down, until the microphone picks up the faint metallic ringing coming from within the swirling spheres in his right hand. Perry feels pleasantly at ease.

 

Eventually this man introduces himself as the Superintendent - he will be assuming the duties of the Dean as the events of the past week are investigated. He cautions everyone to avoid the area surrounding the remains of the Lustig, and reminds the student body that the Reading Week break is highly encouraged for those who are feeling the strain. Classes will resume as scheduled the following next week Monday. Perry nods approvingly as the crowd groans loudly. Speaking over the rabble, the Superintendent remarks with pride that, "Silas University has always had a privileged history of unique student body achievements and naturally occurring moments of phenomenon, which ultimately allowed for and will continue to inspire a great and innovating pursuit of knowledge." Perry's curls bounce on her shoulders as she nods vigorously again.

 

The Superintendent then opens the floor for discussion, and Perry stands a little taller at attention because this is the part that more often than not will end with a lot of shouting and possibly flying fish. But the gathered students and faculty seem a little more subdued than usual, and little chaos ensues. Danny and a couple Sisters try to rally some support for a better explanation of the Lustig Chapel's function, but most students seem anxious to leave and start their winter break. Perry is distracted by a whispered conversation between Carmilla, Laura, and a young freshman seated in front of them. Carmilla suddenly stands and walks out the back before the forum is closed, and Perry tuts to herself as she watches Laura eventually follow.

 

~~~~

 

Laura brushes her hair from her face as she catches up to Carmilla. The night sky is bright with stars and winter's chill lays heavy on her coat.

 

"Why do you have to lie about it - "

 

"What makes you think it was a lie?"

 

"You told that freshman that you climbed out of the Pit using the bones of a Hellbeast like a pair of ice picks. We both know who found you."

 

"What's it matter if I don't want to share with nosy freshmen? I like to keep my air of mystery."

 

"He was just curious, and at least polite about it.  You didn't have to storm out."

 

Carmilla stops abruptly and Laura almost runs into her.

 

"I didn't storm - I exited briskly."

 

Laura steps around and gives her a look of narrowed eyes and terse lips.

 

"Buttercup... I honestly don't remember anything between when I jumped into that light and waking up on your bed."

 

Laura looks down at her feet. Her heartbeat picks up when she feels Carmilla's hand on her arm. "The stories keep away questions. And I've got nothing but questions these days, I don't need any more."

 

"I - I'm sorry - "

 

 Her cool hand slides down and laces with Laura's fingers.

 

"Let's go for a walk."  Laura feels her cold cheeks warm.

 

Laura's only had a handful of occasions now where she and Carmilla have held hands, but the way Carmilla's cool skin can make her own feel flush is something Laura decides she really likes. She also really likes it whenever Carmilla leans her forehead against hers for a moment, before she kisses her. And she definitely likes the kissing, and it's definitely still a miracle that her legs remember how to keep her upright whenever it happens. It makes her heart flutter just a bit faster at the thought that Carmilla can probably hear it flying around in her chest.

 

"You'll be leaving in the morning," Carmilla says whisper-light across her lips. It takes Laura a second to reply.

 

"Only for five days. Promise not to mope about the room the whole time I'm gone?"

 

Carmilla slides in next to her ear, "Get o-ver yourself, Hollis." Laura feels chills again, but not from the cold.

 

"My dad's coming to get me - do you wanna meet him?" And Laura freezes in Carmilla's hold, freaking out internally because _wow, slow down crazy, slow down._ Carmilla quietly considers, "I'll probably be sleeping, sweetheart." Laura lets out a quiet "oh, right," but Carmilla lifts her chin up with a finger. "But I could be waiting when you come back. If you wish."

 

Laura's smile crinkles her eyes and she really, really likes the way Carmilla holds her closer.

 

~~~~

 

"Excited for break, Summer Bro?"

 

Danny nearly drops all her freshly gathered papers because Kirsch thinks it's ok to roughly throw his arm around Danny's shoulders and hug her closer to him.

 

"I will be once I drop these last essays to Professor Hardaway's office. And Kirsch," She shrugs off his grasp roughly, "you may be one of the few people around that actually has the height to put an arm around me, but just because you _can_ doesn't mean you should _._ "

 

"Oh, my bad. Is that another boundaries thing?" he tucks his arms close to his body and moves a good two feet away from Danny.

 

"It is, but... it's whatever, you just caught me off-guard a bit. It's still a new feeling to not want to punch you in the face whenever I see you."

 

"Right. Got it. Personal space. But hey, can I walk with you?"

 

"Sure."

 

"Can I also ask you something? Bro to bro?"

 

"If you can walk and talk, sure. "

 

They round a corner and Kirsch clears his throat. "So like, just out of curiosity or whatever but... are you still having the nightmares?"

 

Danny's eyes narrow in confusion and she unconsciously picks up her pace. "Nightmares?"

 

"Yea, you know... the darkness... swallowing you whole like you were sinking into the ocean? Laura's had them, remember? And like... everyone who was taken - "

 

"I wasn't taken, Kirsch. I didn't have any dreams." Danny slows down and her papers slip lower in her grasp. "I - I wasn't around for much of that part."

 

"OK I know, but like, since the Throwdown... you haven't had any darkness creep up on you? Because I've had a lot of darkness. And Will's there. And SJ. And they keep trying to take me somewhere..."

 

Danny stops completely just outside the suite of professor offices. "Kirsch, am I really the person you want to talk to about this?"

 

Kirsch rubs the triceps of his injured arm. "Yes! You were there and you saved me when I got cocky and that counts for something. Look, I know I'm not doing a very good job of it, but I'm trying to bond with you!"

 

"What about that other Zeta, the blonde kid?"

 

"Zane? He's cool and all but... he came kinda late to the party. He never even met SJ."

 

Danny keeps her jaw tight but sighs through her nose. "Wait here a second," and she retreats into the office, deposits the papers, and takes a little while longer to organize the stack into "Passable" and "Atrocious" for Hardaway to make the final call. When she comes back out she finds Kirsch leaning against the opposite wall, flexing the fingers on his injured arm in his sling and wincing. When he spots Danny coming toward him, he stands comically at attention.

 

"At ease, dude. You wanna talk? Let's have a talk."

 

Kirsch smiles wide and goes for that shoulder hug again - but checks himself, and lowers his hand instead in a weird handshake-highfive combination, which Danny engages with only to reinforce his behavior regarding personal space; their quiet chuckles echo down the empty hallway.

 

~~~~

 

The black straw in Danny's glass is too big for the wide but stout tumbler, so she places it on her paper napkin on the wooden table. She takes a sip of her sorry excuse for a gin and tonic, and feels a drip slide out from the corner and fall to her chest, where it traces a fast descent between her breasts. She knows Kirsch caught the whole thing because that's where his eyes are trained now. He's got enough decency however to blink rapidly and look up and shrug at the wooden beams above them, and Danny just shakes her head. He takes a big gulp of his IPA and scoots his stool closer to the table.

 

Danny won't ever admit aloud that Kirsch's invitation to buy her a beer took her off-guard, but she's finding herself repeatedly surprised by the younger fraternity brother. He's surprisingly deep in an oblivious kind of way. But the depth is mostly coming across as recognizable depression and the more Kirsch tells her about his dark and disturbing dreams, the more her heart wants to fling him a life preserver. The bar is starkly empty, being that most of the students that usually patron this college-town pub left this morning for Reading Week. The atmosphere is dark and dank despite the early afternoon settling outside, but it seems to let Kirsch spill some of his more deeper insecurities and reveal broken-hearted scars. Danny is both overwhelmed and honored by his trust in her, even though she feels he's being a bit naive with his feelings. But to his credit, when Danny no longer has any words to console, Kirsch is able to slide on a weak smile and redirect the conversation to more navigable waters.

 

"So anyway... You and Laura?"

 

Or, as-yet-uncharted waters, anyway.

 

Danny knocks back the last of her mild drink, then lets her hair fall from behind her ears as she looks back at Kirsch through a red fringe. "Ok, are you sure you wanna hear my whole breakdown on all this? Complete with emotional scrutiny and possibly some whining?"

 

Kirsch crosses his arms and gets comfortable against his chair, "I think I just did the same thing to you, so yea. Shoot."

 

Danny unloads as much as she feels comfortable doing so, and the alcohol is helping, and Kirsch has only the most commiserating face on, and when he leans in close on his elbows sometimes, Danny feels like she's finally letting go of a secret she's been holding for a long while.

 

And so, maybe Danny overreacted when Laura said they both "needed different things," but really Danny just did what she's always done whenever faced with an injury, what she'd learned to do from years of running on grassy fields and dirt tracks - she powered through and tried to walk it off and focused on her research project and grading papers and showing up for lacrosse pick-up games. She's had years of learning how to juggle responsibilities with the occasional arm sling and foot crutch and she really wished there was a sling for a broken heart but when it came down to it, the easier option was to start ignoring Laura's absences in class and avoiding the dorm halls on her morning runs. But through it all, Danny couldn't shake this intense sense of guilt - like she had abandoned Laura right when things were getting dangerous. And if she's honest with herself, it means Danny gave up on her Sister Elsie too - she allowed herself to be coaxed back into accepting normalcy, and Laura was the only one still fighting for those missing girls. Laura wouldn't be pacified by faculty misdirection, wouldn't conform to the status quo of student life. And Danny's gotta admit that it's that unshakeable determination that Danny _really_ _likes_ about Laura. But it's too late to tell her that now.

 

"... because Carmilla's back and her attitude still stinks - but she's made this incredible sacrifice for love and just... that has to change a person, right? You don't just _do that_ without having some kind of serious self-realization... Unless it's all just another act, in which case -"

 

Kirsch shakes his head and interrupts, "I'm gonna stop you there, because that's starting to hurt my brain. You're overanalyzing things. Keeping on like that is what's gonna get you in trouble with Laura and Fangs and everybody, basically. "

 

Danny lets her head fall back and groans, "I do tend to over-think a lot."

 

"Here's my take on it, all right? Now, I'm more of a feeler than a thinker - and yes, you can laugh, you're supposed to laugh, go ahead - I'm a feeler and it feels like you should trust Laura. I trust Laura. It feels like Carmilla definitely trusts Laura. So if we all just -"

 

"Trust Laura. I got it."

 

"Yea! I mean she can be a little feisty but her heart's always in the right place. And she looks out for her friends."

 

"Carmilla though..."

 

"She's a work-in-progress, right? Look, my dad once said something that's really stuck with me. 'You shouldn't judge a book by its cover, ' and he's right, because you never know what's going on with someone else before you get them to open up. Y'know?"

 

Danny scrutinizes Kirsch's face for a moment, but his eyes are steady. " Are you - ? I mean, that's a good point, but you do know that's a really common saying, right?"

 

"What is?"

 

" 'Never judge a book by its cover'? It's like one of most well-known adages in the English language."

 

"What? No, no, my dad told me that the day my step-mom moved in with us. It really shaped the way I saw the world after that."

 

"That's nice, Kirsch, but I'm telling you, everybody knows that saying."

 

They chat about inconsequential things, they order another round, and then another for Danny, because Kirsch says she deserves it, and Danny is quite aware that she's now balancing her foot on the lowest rung of Kirsch's stool, and occasionally Kirsch's jeans brush against her calf.

 

Kirsch gets up to use the bathroom at some point (and he pays for the whole tab) and Danny is again, surprised, but undeniably impressed and warm-hearted towards him.

 

Later, when she's walking under a murky night sky back to the Summer House, she admits to herself that, yea, maybe trusting a vampire isn't so crazy, (and it probably won't be the strangest thing she'll do before graduating from this place). It's a shot closer to actually graduating _a_ _live_ , anyway. _  
_

 

A low rumble shakes the loose pebbles on the path ahead of her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perry has been appointed a close position to the new Superintendent, Danny invites Carmilla to her secret underground evil-fighting organization, there's some BroTP of both the Danny/Kirsch and Carmilla/LaFontaine variety, and we learn a little more about what the heck is going on with the Pit. Spoiler alert: it's cray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three ~ 4,900 words

~~Chapter Three~~

"So he just approached you, outta the blue, about this?"

"Not out of the blue - it's his job to know the faculty and staff, which includes the Floor Dons. He said he's heard good things about me - "

"That's a little weird. "

"I'm choosing to think of it as my hard work being recognized, LaFontaine."

Perry sits straight up on her bed as she picks lint from her sweater, "Basically the Superintendent is asking me to report directly to him, regarding student well-being and coping with the transition. He seems like a very caring individual, actually."

LaFontaine leans back on their computer chair and chews on a chewy bar, "As long as he doesn't ask you to spy on us."

"He wouldn't! The Superintendent made it very clear that he's upset by the danger students were exposed to, and he's making it his priority to keep the campus safe. He's appointed me as Liaison because I'm qualified, and he believes he can trust me," Perry nods proudly.

LaFontaine types a few keystrokes on their laptop with a small smile, "Well, you're definitely trustworthy. 'Student Body Liaison to the Superintendent' _does_ sound like a title that comes with an access card. He share any information with you yet? Specifically regarding on-campus evil cults, or Silas' history with tectonic shifting events?"

"He's only mentioned that he might need my help in sorting out the facts." Perry fidgets with her bedspread. "... And technically I have access to the administration building and some of the personnel and admissions records, but it's exclusively for Liaison purposes. And anyway, there are more pressing matters, like making sure the student body is coping well with a new authority figure this semester."

LaFontaine shrugs and turns fully to their laptop, typing out a conversation with J.P. The air feels thick, and LaFontaine can almost hear the tiny gears turning in Perry's head (LaFontaine imagines them to be tiny, but very fast, whirring about in her mind and occasionally letting off little puffs of steam, that always come out as the little huffs and sighs to which LaFontaine is so accustomed). After a few beats, Perry tries a different topic.

"It seems like Laura and Carmilla are finally getting along, I haven't heard them fight once since Carmilla returned."

LaFontaine's eyebrows pique a little higher but their voice remains detached, "Yea, honeymoon phase, I guess."

"You think they'll start fighting again?"

"I'm not saying that. I just don't really care, Perr - it's not my prerogative. What I _do_ care about is whatever the consequences are for starving a centuries-old supernatural being."

"I thought it ate the Dean?"

J.P.'s cursor offers an explanation:

_It appears that the Dean is, quite unfortunately, not on the menu. The aftershocks we keep experiencing, along with those ghastly howls, seem to indicate that both Lophiiformes and the Dean are struggling with a battle of their own. The mere fact that it's been days since the Sacrifice, and nothing's changed, supports this theory._

"Which is why I'd rather spend my time working on a solution than wondering about anybody's love life," LaFontaine adds with a shrug.

"Oookay," Perry bristles and moves to their shared kitchenette, turning on the water and washing already-clean dishes. "I suppose we'll just keep searching for answers to the unknowable future, and push our personal feelings and friendships to the side."

  
"J.P. and I _will_ keep searching, but I'm not pushing anybody's feelings aside - "

"You _just_ said you didn't care about Carmilla and Laura's relationship - "

"Because it's none of my business!" LaFontaine throws their hands up and turns away from Perry, "I do care about them, I just don't need to be reminded of their super-romantic-ultra-intense attraction to each other! They probably haven't been separated for days, and it makes me feel a little suffocated, to be honest."

"Well, if that's how you feel..."

"It is."

"...All right."

LaFontaine doesn't realize that Perry has left the room until the door clicks back into the lock. J.P.'s message makes LaFontaine's head hurt from the sudden influx of chemicals and guilt to their brain.

_I believe she was merely trying to have a conversation with you._

"I think she's having trouble adjusting. She's been doing her Floor Don thing, and we haven't really talked about... Well, maybe she feels like a third wheel..." LaFontaine shakes their head, "Ahh, I shouldn't have snapped at her like that.,."

_Perhaps we could include her more in our endeavors._

"Most of the time she's got a deep moral problem with us snooping, though."

LaFontaine reads J.P.'s ellipses with a hand pressing their temples.

_.... ... ..._

"Yea, I know."

 

~~~~

 

Carmilla remembers being angry for a long, long time after her gruesome murder. The years passed like blinking, but she remembers the anger in her gut that would overflow her body every time her incisor punctured flesh and blood smeared her lips.

Mother had given her a second chance not just at life, but at revenge, and rage and passion. And although she never did find the men that slaughtered her and ripped her family apart, she found other men to rent asunder, and Mother taught her the most delicious ways to do so. She held a ferocious power; she could incite fear or desire at the slightest flicker of her smile.

As a lure, Carmilla was perfect. Elegant, mysterious, charming. Manipulation came naturally, and Mother encouraged it. And for a long time, Carmilla was content to wrap herself in luxuries and the warm beating hearts of young sheltered girls desperate for bosom friendship - until the one year she wasn't.

 

Carmilla's memories churn in her bones. She tries to stretch them out under the sheets, but she pushes the tangled heap off the bed instead. She huffs in annoyance and sits up. There's a knock at the door. She groans.

As the creaky door opens, Carmilla raises her elbow to the doorjamb and lazily leans her head against her palm. Her disheveled hair coils at her fingers while Danny sports a disapproving look on her face.

"Did you just wake up? The sun's been down for hours."

"What's it to you? It's winter break, and I have nowhere to be. But I'm guessing you're here to ruin all that, Beanstalk."

Danny brushes off the name with a flick of red hair over her shoulder, and the flash of bright red light it catches distracts Carmilla for an instant. She's hungry.

"Can I come in, dead girl, or what?"

"Strange, normally you just burst right in. Is it the lack of Laura that makes you so hesitant around me?" Carmilla steps back into the room and goes to the fridge.

"This isn't about Laura."

"For once," Carmilla frowns at her nearly empty "soymilk" container. Danny stands somewhat awkwardly in the middle of the room as Carmilla pours dark red blood into a clear glass, and she smirks when she catches Danny shiver slightly.

"Look, I figure it's time we start over. Or at least come to better terms. There's a whole lot of Nope rumbling away right under our feet, and since you've proven that you like Laura alive as much as the rest of us, you're a part of our team that's gonna fight against it. So I came here to officially invite you to join Operation Dragoon."

Carmilla sips slowly and regards Danny over the top of her glass. "Have you been drinking?"

Danny looks bashfully taken back, "I - I had a couple drinks with Kirsch at The Wolves' Den, what's it matter?

"Explains that ridiculous name... and the smell," Carmilla waves her hand loftily in front of her face before taking another sip.

"This is serious Carmilla. There's a storm brewing, and nobody's doing anything about it. Except for us."

"And what makes you think a ragtag group of co-eds will be able to stand against the Unholy Union?"

Danny speaks like she's reciting something practiced, "I think we've proven that we may not know what we're up against, but it's worth a shot to try and save ourselves, because no one else is going to. The Administration's certainly not doing anything about it; I still have a project due at the end of Reading Week, as if I'm not already drowning in stress."

"I hear that's how college works."

"Supposedly, but we got stuck with the one institution that feeds students to a pet monster every couple decades, so..." Danny shrugs in a way that expresses fragile amicability, and Carmilla finds herself nodding in agreement.

Carmilla leans further into her headboard, stretching her back. She's felt incredibly achy since the Pit, physically and mentally. Her bones seem to be spaced further apart than they're used to, her mind is cloudy sometimes, her fangs itch. There are so many reasons why Carmilla should leave; she's been over them a thousand times. Most pressing is the fact that whatever is under that Pit is probably really angry with Carmilla. But it's probably really angry with Laura, too. And that's why Carmilla is staying, foolishly.

The cut across Danny's forehead is still an angry red, a battle scar won in a shared campaign. Carmilla sighs.

"Let's get one thing straight, Rudolph - " and Danny blinks hard, " - I'm not a soldier."

"That's not what -"

"And I'm definitely not going to be attending any boot camps or recruiting little freshmen for your ranks."

"I wasn't going to - " but Danny stops short as Carmilla suddenly crosses the distance between them, and even though Danny is looking down at her, Carmilla can see apprehension wavering in her eyes.

"You and I have one thing in common, and that's a tiny little human whom we'd both go to war for - this _is_ about Laura, after all."

Carmilla makes a show to slowly inhale and cross her arms in front of her chest. Danny's hands ball up at her sides, and Carmilla notices the fingers of her right hand rubbing at a scar that peaks out from the crevice of her palm.

"You get that from digging me up?" Carmilla asks. She remembers Laura suggesting that she thank Danny, eventually, for finding her.

Danny stops rubbing her hand, hooks her thumbs in her pockets instead, "My knife slipped. No big deal, though."

Carmilla nods, which is the closest admission of gratitude she'll give to the tall redhead.

Danny shifts again, "So, anyway - are you in or what?"

"It seems I really don't have a choice, do I?"

"If you care about Laura's safety, then no, you don't."

Carmilla smirks more to herself than at Danny, but leans forward with an open palm.

"In regards to the little cupcake, it seems we have an accord."

 

~~~~

 

A few days later, Kirsch sits on the front porch of the Summer House and watches Danny flip an impressive blade, tip over handle, before plunging it into a cardboard box and slicing it open. She pulls out newspaper and packing fluff, and finally lifts out an ornately decorated oval shield.

"A gift from Summer Society Alumnae," Danny smiles proudly at the shield in her hands. "I sent out a newsletter about Dragoon. I'm surprised by the response time, you'd think the Sisters were almost prepared for something like this..." and Kirsch sees Danny's brow furrow, and he recognizes it now after several days of hanging out and building up this kinda-secret evil-fighting organization together. It's her Hard Thinking face, the same one she gets when she's grading papers or looking over her fields when they play Settlers of Catan in the Summer House library. Kirsch interrupts her, "Can you explain to me the name again?"

Danny hoists the shield over her shoulder with a sigh that's less exasperated than what Kirsch is used to from her. "Operation Dragoon. It's kinda like the Calvary, big numbers that ride into battle on horses."

"Horses would be cool. I guess knowing what it is that we're actually up against would be cool too. As numbers go, we're pretty insignificant."

"Feeling a little small over there, Kirsch? " Danny teases while brandishing her big shield.

Kirsch crosses his arms over his chest and scoffs. "'Course not! But I mean... kinda. This is all super surreal and every time I think back to that night, I get a little... creeped out."

Danny sits down at the opposite edge of the steps. She rests the edge of the shield on the step below her and gazes over the silver-plating of the crest.

"I've spent too much time just sitting on the sidelines. I can't just wait around for evil to make its move."

Kirsch rubs at his slinged-elbow. Danny continues, "It's like... giving it a name like Dragoon reminds me that this is real. We're the only ones that have a clue what's really going on, we're the first and last line of defense."

"Yea but... I guess sometimes it feels like we're just a bunch of kids playing in a fantasy RPG. The name even _sounds_ like it's straight outta D&D, bro."

Danny shakes her head like Kirsch has missed something, again, but then she smiles softly. "Do you know how many of the classics have heroes that are our age, Kirsch? The courage to adventure and the will to fight comes from these kids that are stupidly young but with open minds and hearts. Others might say it's just inexperience, but you know what? They get the job done. These kids fight supernatural creatures and go on Odysseys and defeat people-eating demons."

"And they usually hook up with someone."

Danny smiles crookedly, "Yea, that too. But the point is: We're not helpless."

Kirsch feels the words reverberate in his head, and he nods, "And we're stronger together. Right?"

 Danny shares a bright smile with Kirsch, and Kirsch feels his cheeks get a little warm.

"Yea. Damn right." Danny leans over and pushes her fist into his arm, awkward but endearing.

 

~~~~

 

It's not that Perry minds the scent of sandalwood, but it's just too strong for the small room that is serving as the Superintendent's temporary office (because the Dean's door is still inexplicably sealed shut). The incense rises in a trail of curly smoke from the edge of the Superintendent's desk, and Perry twitches slightly every time a line of ash plops from the stick and lands messily off of the wooden holder that is obviously too small. One exhalation too strong and all that dust will be scattered to the four corners of the office, requiring intense vacuuming and dusting. Perry finds it distracting, more than anything. But now he is in front of her again, twirling his strange metallic orbs in his palm like usual. Her gaze stays with them too long, and the Superintendent finally enlightens her.

"Baoding meditation balls, a relic from the Ming Dynasty. Helps me think." They clink gently as he rotates them skillfully in one hand, swirling around each other and catching the dim light from the shaded lamp in the corner. The Superintendent's dark skin contrasts with the brightly-colored yin-yang symbol that rolls occasionally into view.

This is only the third interaction that Perry has had with the Superintendent, but she's learned fairly quickly that this man finds solace in various Eastern remedies. She walked in on his Qi Gong practice Monday morning, which made Perry feel very intrusive, but instead the Super just flowed into one last graceful movement, before standing upright and offering her a cup of green tea. There was a cup waiting for her when she arrived several minutes ago too, but Perry prefers her own blend of herbal and black teas, so this cup's gone lukewarm. Perry's been too polite to interrupt the man's strange pacing and "thinking" ritual.

Finally, he opens a small box at his desk, and places the balls gently into crushed velvet, before addressing Perry face to face. Sandalwood smoke obscures the right lens of of his small-framed glasses, giving him a rather mysterious impression.

"I understand it's a difficult transition to file in new leadership so suddenly after recent upsets, but I trust that with your help, we'll be able to steer students back into their respective pursuits of knowledge. I've incorporated plans to place a memorial outside of the Lustig following its reconstruction. It's a terrible thing when tragedy befalls us, but some may find opportunity and purpose in even the most lachrymose situations."

"Of course, sir."

The Superintendent sits behind his desk and steeples his fingers in a way that appears familiarly menacing to Perry, but his voice is soft and even behind his hands. Perry sits a little straighter than she already was.

"I'm trusting in you, Lola. The safety of the students at Silas is my top priority, and I need to know of any feelings of unrest among the campus. This is why I've chosen you as the intermediary, you've got a unique blend of kindness and authority that I'm interested in spreading throughout this institution."

Here, the Superintendent un-steeples to lightly touch a folder on his desk. He keeps it closed however. "Furthermore, I'd like to enlist your help in preventing too much distraction from interfering with normal student activities. You'll remember from our Town Hall that a small group of students seem intent on investigating the Lustig Incident on their own, but as I'm sure you will agree, it's quite unnecessary."

Perry interrupts finally because that group of students are her friends and LaFontaine is probably snooping around the Silas Ethernet right at this very moment - "Sir, I'm afraid rumor has already spread through the campus by this point - the Lustig Incident is all people are talking about. That and theories about whatever happened to the Dean - "

" - You were there that night, weren't you? At the chapel?"

Perry blanches with her mouth open, and her eyes search around the office for a response.

"Don't worry, Miss Perry, I'm not concerned with chastisement, I just want assurance for the well-being of my students. Can I count on you to help me keep the students safe?"

And Perry nods because that's all she's ever tried to do, especially for the close friendships that she found within and around dorm room 307.

"Of course, sir."

The Superintendent leans back in his chair and shifts slightly to gaze at the corner of the room behind Perry. There's no window on that wall, but it's as if the Superintendent is seeing something beyond the cement.

"Silas University is an old institution. We've existed through world conflict and major societal shifts. Through it all we've escorted countless young minds through the journeys of classical and new age education. The Lustig Chapel is our oldest and most prestigious structure on campus, and it has an important history to keep within its walls. It has survived multiple events of destruction and holds a very special purpose for the University, and the community at large. The Administration is committed to rebuilding and protecting the Gateway at all costs."

Perry blinks. "Gateway, sir?"

The Superintendent blinks too, and seems to lose the image that captivated him through the wall.

"That's all for today, Lola. It's nearly lunchtime... and isn't it Pie Day?"

"Oh yes! It is, Sir."

"Wonderful. Have yourself a slice on gratis. Perks of being a Liaison."

Perry smiles and nods as she gets up to leave, because the pie here is delicious and yes, she does work hard, and maybe she can invite LaFontaine to join her. Free food has always been one of LaFontaine's favorite things anyway.

 

~~~~

 

Danny tucks the books for her conflict management course under the crook of her arm. She's got a whole new semester of stress to look forward to: classes, tutoring, Summer Society obligations and secret investigations into the hidden evils of Silas to plan. She figures that if she gets an early start on the assigned stuff, the unassigned and unknowable will be a little more manageable. She hopes, at least. She feels her feet fall heavy down the stone steps from the library, it's dark already and it just makes her more tired. She catches herself mid-yawn just as LaFontaine turns the corner and starts trudging up the stairs toward her.

"Oh hey."

"Oh. Hi."

"You're going to the library?"

"Yes."

"And you know it's nearly six?"

"..."

Danny rethinks her approach as LaFontaine continues to give her a very measured stare.

"Well I'm sure it's because it's needed. So uhm, anyway. How are you?"

"Missing the rest of that lecture that I know was coming," LaFontaine crosses their arms and lifts their chin defiantly. Danny's hand scratches behind her neck.

"I'm not gonna lecture you. I'm just asking... As someone who saw you fearlessly head-butt a toothy minion in our escape, I'm just concerned about any head trauma, that sorta thing."

LaFontaine runs a hand through their short fringe. "It seems near-death experiences make me more amiable. I'm fine, Danny. I mean, I still run scans almost everyday, but it's whatever."

"Do you really?" Danny's face crumbles with concern.

LaFontaine seems taken off guard for a moment. "Everybody’s readjusting. Having something to research keeps me occupied. So if you'll excuse me -"

"Oh right. OK. Well. If you ever need any... fire extinguishers or axes... You have my number."

"I do. " LaFontaine climbs four steps behind Danny before throwing out over their shoulder a concise thank you.

 

~~~~

 

Carmilla is hungry; her limbs ache with it, and her fangs keep itching, and she's been surreptitiously running her tongue over them for the past 10 minutes. Finally, LaFontaine says they can leave the dastardly dusty rows of the top floor of the library, where they've been holed up since dusk when the lower levels started moving. The distraction of the sentient building provided LaFontaine and J.P. the opportunity to jack into the computers on this higher level, and while Carmilla came along as a security precaution, this level, with its wide windows and fewer bookshelves, has been outrageously boring and non-lethal, so Carmilla's spent most of this time thinking about her hunger.

"You look like crap," LaFontaine says once they reach the dorms again. Carmilla gives them as cruel a stare as she can muster.

"Have you been eating?"

Carmilla makes a show of yawning with disinterest, but one of her fangs pops out embarrassingly, so Carmilla tries to hide behind a hand and turns her head. "You offering me a snack?"

"I'm offering you help, jerk." LaFontaine opens the door to their dorm, leaving Carmilla awkwardly occupying the space between the doorframe and hallway. She sighs with exhaustion that emanates from her bones. "Since the sudden evacuation of the local vampire cult, my normal means of sustenance have been... suspended. I haven't eaten since Saturday."

"Looks about right. Here," and LaFontaine reaches into their small fridge and pulls out a glistening and sloshing blood bag. Carmilla's teeth ache again and she takes a small step forward into the room. "Courtesy of the campus hospital again. I know it's not your favorite, but it'll have to do."

Carmilla hums because anything she might try to verbalize wouldn't be able to hide her surprise and mild affection.

"I wouldn't want Laura coming back and thinking we starved you again. Not when we're all starting to get along so well. Wouldn't you say?" and LaFontaine jiggles the blood bag teasingly between them. Carmilla sighs, "Ok fine. Yes."

"We'll figure out a way to get you a more dependable supply. "

"Or I could pick up my own take-out."

Carmilla notices that a slice of pie under plastic wrap has caught LaFontaine's attention, with a note attached. LaFontaine seems to swallow before responding.

"Yea, not doubting that... but Laura might have some objections. J.P. and I will do some snooping, see if we can't hunt down those distributors. "

"You mean to say _you will if_ I come with you to the library again," Carmilla says as she slices open a corner of the bag and starts sucking on it like a juice box.

"Think of it as a mutual arrangement - or even, dare I say - a friendship."

"Not many people _would_ dare to say it, I imagine."

"I think we've established that I'm not like many people."

"Maybe that's why I don't hate you as much."

LaFontaine grins so brightly at Carmilla that she has to blink and turn quickly to leave the room.

 

~~~~

 

The screen catches an unusual amount of static before settling into frame, filled mostly by Danny and her bright red hair.

"Hey Laura, I'm making a video like you asked, even though you'll be back here in like 3 days and we'll show you around again anyway. But uh, yea, welcome to the Summer Society's library nook, currently repurposed as our headquarters for Operation Dragoon - , " Kirsch interrupts off screen, "Merry Christmas Laura!!"

Danny shifts to the side so that Kirsch is visible at the end of a large round table, and he waves to the camera.

"Yep, we're all nice jolly over here. Except for you-know-who," and Danny pans the camera to the corner of the room, where Carmilla is seated at the window with, as expected, a large book in her lap. Her face remains stoic but she raises her hand lazily in recognition of being filmed.

Danny turns the camera back and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. "We're still a pretty small operation, but all the Sisters are on board, and we've even had some Alumnae send us some old armor and magical wards and things. Who knew, right?" The room behind Danny is littered with piles of books, pilfered from the library basements thanks to Carmilla, and a collection of shiny metal and pointy objects in the back corner. The hand drawn poster of the Silas campus map is propped against the wall.

"Anyway, LaFontaine went on a scouting mission with some Zetas to the Pit yesterday, we’re waiting for the report - Oh hey, perfect timing - " Danny's gaze looks up over the camera and follows LaFontaine as they stride into view. "I've got good news, and weird news," LaFontaine says as they hook up their laptop to the digital display fronting the small fireplace.

J.P.'s grayscale image can be seen in the lower left corner, and he's throwing up windows of text and images and graphs and charts. Danny steadies the camera and turns her chair around to face the display. "At least it's not bad news. What'd you find?"

 "I've done a sample spectro-analysis and run tests on the surrounding area , and Good News is the Pit is just a pit of dirt. Well, dirt laced with an usually high amount of Krypton residue."

The room is silent, save for Carmilla turning the page of her book in the corner. Kirsch looks expectantly confused. LaFontaine calls up a periodic table of elements - "Krypton is a gas that's used in lasers, commonly."

This causes a minor commotion.

"Lasers?! This thing has fucking _lasers??!"_ Kirsch slams his good fist down on the table.

"Hold up, gas?  Is it toxic? Should we be cording off the Pit?" Danny leans forward.

"Caution tape will only look like an invitation. Some idiots have already been throwing fireworks into the thing."

"Those idiots found your sorry butt in the dirt," Danny tosses at Carmilla.

"OK, everybody shut up, I just said the Pit isn't dangerous," LaFontaine throws their hands up.

J.P. is filling the screen with all kinds of information about chemical equations and scientific annotations and geo-spectro analysis, and now throws up an image of a comically drawn glowing anglerfish, the Atomic number for Krypton, an image of the Blade of Hastur -

"I've deduced that the Krypton came from the Alchemy Club's little light show, so we're not too worried about that, other than the fact the orbs are still glowing at night. We know that Lophiiformes was put out, so to speak, when Carmilla jumped into it with that sword, but we don't know where it went, or where Carmilla went for that matter, and how she got back."

"Let's skip that part, because like I've said before, I've no idea."

"At this point it doesn't really matter - what's more concerning is what Carmilla found in the Sumerian text, about the merging of powerful entities. It's more than possible that the Dean is still conscious in that ball of Light, wherever it is."

"So the thing's not under the Pit?" Kirsch asks, fiddling with the pointy edge of a compass on the table.

"The Pit itself appears to be stable, which leads me to believe that whatever or wherever Lophiiformes is now, it exists between dimensions. The quakes would have released it by now if it was trapped underground."

"Between dimensions?" Danny's head drops lower but her eyebrows arch higher. "So not only is it at least twice as powerful and probably super pissed, it's _inter-dimensional too_? How do we even beat that?"

The room goes silent again. LaFontaine looks to the screen, where J.P.'s cursor is blinking but no text appears. Danny looks down to her hands, Kirsch looks at Danny, and Carmilla closes her book but looks at no one.

Kirsch seems deeply concerned when he asks Danny, "So... this means we can still have the bonfire, right?"

 Danny shakes her head and gives the camera a look before shutting it off.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring appearances by Nurse Danny, Voice of Reason J.P., "NearlyHadItUpToHere" Perry, and Broody Carmilla (which is normal, pretty much). LaFontaine continues to search for answers that nobody wants to hear, Danny and Laura reconnect, Laura and Carmilla connect a lot, and Carmilla has moments of disconnect from reality...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four: ~ 5500 words.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy.

~~CHAPTER FOUR~~

 

LaFontaine shakes a wrist and lets out a tired sigh. J.P. types out a message while the desktop webcam light blinks - _Feeling all right?_

"Yea, just a little achy. It's like I'm reliving Finals, the way I've been attached to the keyboard lately."

Perry huffs loudly behind them, but doesn't turn away from the door, where she's been keeping a vigilant eye out for any faculty that might be coming into the Staff room.

J.P. pops out another message - _You may take a break if you require it. Once I get past this new-fangled firewall they've set up, I can work through the night. You need your rest, LaF._

"Thanks, J.P., but this is too important. Are you seeing the amount of skullduggery that this school's been involved with, pretty much since its inception?"

_Yes, of course, but there are limitations. I'd be remiss to see you overtaxed. Your well-being is very important to me._

LaFontaine smirks at the text on screen. "Your sweet talk won't distract me - how's that decryption coming?"

J.P. begins typing a longer message, but LaFontaine feels Perry standing at their back, and turns in the unsteady office chair. "Everything ok, Perr?"

Perry's lips are pursed, which isn't unusual, but her eyes are avoiding LaFontaine's, which is unusual. "Perhaps taking a break would be a good idea. You've been spending an awful lot of time in front of the computer recently. I wouldn't want you to get carpel tunnel. Again." And then Perry reaches around LaFontaine to dust something off the edge of the computer screen. Holding the back of LaFontaine's chair, Perry's fingers are squeezed between LaFontaine's shoulder blades. It feels hot in this holiday sweater that Perry knitted for them.

LaFontaine furrows their brow, "I'm fine, really. And this beats navigating the Library's death traps any day."

"Perhaps, but at least students are _allowed_ in the library. I really wish we didn't have to sneak into Faculty staffrooms to find whatever it is you're looking for - the Superintendent is counting on me to  - "

" - help out the students in whatever needs they may have? That's exactly what we're doing, Perr. We're entitled to know what kind of danger we're in, right? And if Silas' history is anything to go on, it's something old, nasty and hungry for innocent minds." LaFontaine presses their back further into the chair, feeling Perry's knuckles jut out in just the right spot. "We're trying to keep people safe, Perry - we're doing a good thing here."

"OK, but, it just feels a lot like rule breaking. And so soon after I've been promoted. That's all."

LaFontaine engages once again with J.P. and his several paragraphs-long explanation of how he's tearing down the Silas Ethernet firewall data stream by data stream, but each folder of information he unpacks just leads to more mysterious and suspicious packets of intelligence. LaFontaine switches to text communication because if Perry hears what's being uncovered, LaFontaine doubts she'll be very conducive to the search efforts, and more likely to furiously unplug the desktop computer and drag LaFontaine by the ears to the nearest kitchen so she can make comfort brownies.

But apparently Perry doesn't appreciate the silent treatment either, because a few minutes later, Perry is back at huffing and shuffling between the door and LaFontaine's chair, and when LaFontaine doesn't register the question that Perry just asked, she roughly grabs the back of the computer chair and forces LaFontaine to face her.

"This is what I'm talking about, LaFontaine! You're spending all your time chatting with this thing made out of wifi and gigglebytes and you haven't at all asked me how I've been doing, because it's been very stressful, thank you very much, and the Superintendent is holding me accountable and here you are just asking me to break into Administration's exclusive break rooms and internet files and you haven't slept properly in weeks and I'm worried and just - fed up!"

And before LaFontaine can recall their voice and will their cheeks to stop flushing, Perry storms out of the room, leaving the door wide open and loudly banging the fire exit door on the way out of the hallway.

"What?" LaFonatine asks confusingly to no one in particular.

J.P. answers.  _Maybe you should talk to her?_

But that just makes LaFontaine's head drop. "I'm not saying the right things. I feel like I keep messing up, but I don't know why."

J.P.'s cursor blinks slowly, as if hesitating. Then: _As a consciousness that was locked up in a library catalog for a century, I know something of isolation._

LaFontaine looks up through their fingers, patiently, for J.P. to continue.

_I think she's lonely._

 

~~~~

 

It's three damn days into the Spring Semester and Laura is already sick. Not just sick, though. Like, actually dying from the inside out. She's so stuck up she feels like nothing more than a lump of gross biology.

"They call it the 'Silas Crud' - It happens to everyone, at least once. Consider yourself lucky you didn't get it during exam week."

Danny cringes in empathy but Laura can feel no sentiment because she's pretty sure her entire body is made of snot. She groans, which is now her only form of communication since she first felt sick yesterday, and she tugs her blanket over her face, catching her nose dribbles. She is far from feeling embarrassed by her sickly state; Danny was there a few weeks ago to witness Laura at her lowest, so bloodshot eyes and a wet cough are nothing new.

Laura hears how Danny's been named the unofficial 'mom' of the Sisters. She's had practice making Exam Emergency Packs filled with tissue and vitamin C tabs and peppermint lavender tea, which she admits are much better now that Danny can hit up Perry for a premium supply of tea leaves and herbs. Danny is half-convinced Perry is a witch of some kind, by the way. She speculates that the amount of dried herbs hanging over the floor don's window could amount to a small apothecary's worth, and with the way Perry never gets sick herself, and always has some sort of baked good remedy for what ails her floor's student body, there's no doubt that Perry's got something magical about her.

Laura's cheeks hurt because of the smile, so she lolls her head side to side to shake her muscles loose again, feels her hair spread messily on her pillow case and hears Danny's light laugh. Laura is totally fine letting Danny take care of her now, because she certainly can't do it herself. And Carmilla, concerned though she is, hasn't been sick in over 300 years, so her bedside manner is rather terrible. The vampire gave up when Laura couldn't make up her mind about the thermostat, and left with a disgruntled huff. Laura would have felt a little more indignant about that, adding to the slight bummer she had felt when Carmilla missed meeting her dad when he dropped her off after Reading Week, but she's pretty sure the indignant part of her brain is swollen with sickness. She mostly just feels awful.

Laura finds her head movements have knocked a little snack of cookies from her opened book bag. They plop next to her right hand, so Laura shifts to welcome them to the bed and -

Danny's hand snatches them away. "Sugar is definitely not what you need to get better."

"Cookies always make me feel better?"

Danny shakes her head lightly.

" Siiiiick, mee," Laura tries again, pawing at the air at Danny's waist. Danny drops her gaze and smiles a little, and Laura reaches out to hook her fingers into Danny's sweatshirt. It tugs at her collar and Danny leans forward a fraction. But then she looks conflicted suddenly, and Laura feels her headache get stronger at her temples.

"I'm here to take care of you because your vampire roommate is completely useless, and sugar is a bad idea," Danny steps back and stands akimbo. Laura pouts with her eyebrows again. Danny deflates slightly. "But I mean, I'm not trying to tell you what to do. It's your Crud."

And Laura notices how Danny's eyes are wavering now, the hand at her hip is fidgeting with her belt loop and the other is holding the plastic bag of cookies a little too tightly.

"It's ok, you know. I don't mind."

"Mind what?"

Laura lies on her side. Her pillow swallows one eye and she blinks sleepily up at Danny.

"You taking care of me. It's nice having you around again."

Danny puts the cookies on the counter and puts her hand on Laura's blue Tardis mug, checking the temperature of the tea. "To be totally honest, I've been trying not to crowd you as much, anymore."

"I know," Laura's voice cracks and she swallows the lump in her throat from harsh words once said.  "But I want you here, and I'm really happy that you still want to be here too."

Laura sucks in a big breath and moves to prop herself up to sitting against her headboard. Danny brings her mug of lavender and peppermint, and Laura blows over her tea, "We've said sorry a hundred times, I think we can move on."

Danny shrugs in agreement and sits back down in Laura's chair. "I'm just trying to help my friends out."

"And you've seen me vomit. I'd say we're pretty good friends."

"I appreciate you not spattering it all over me, that was pretty friendly of you."

Laura nods her head and pops her lips after she swallows her tea, "You're welcome."

 

~~~~

 

"I told you, didn't I? I knew this wasn't going to end well."

"A), we're not even close to the end of this and B), I know I was being reckless and I'll be more careful from now on, but please don't rub my face in it. You know I hate that."

LaFontaine turns away from Perry and runs their eyes over the document of Silas Confidential that J.P. managed to save, but nothing new arises. J.P. remains considerately silent, but his flashdrive continues to blink from LaFontaine's laptop. 

"I know you hate it, but I also know how stubborn you are, and sometimes you don't learn your lesson until you're in the principal's office with your eyebrows blown off and the high school needing a substitute chemistry teacher for the rest of term."

"This is nothing like that - we got back-hacked from somewhere within the Silas Ethernet; it was an attack, not a mistake. They could have control-alt-deleted J.P. if I hadn't pulled him out in time. It was a close shave, but we got some necessary information that I just need to... figure out."

"I just think you're spending a little too much time with your partner in crime," Perry says from the compact oven on the counter, and the enticing smell of Perry's stress baking float across LaFontaine's nose. It smells like home but also stifles the small room with heat.

"J.P. and I _are_ partners. The criminal acts are relative only to how deeply hidden Silas is keeping its secrets."

"But don't you think some secrets are meant to stay underground? If the entire campus knew what was going on... Well, I doubt many people would be going to their classes."

LaFontaine and Perry share a silent stare for a moment, and LaFontaine feels their pulse in their ears. Perry brings a plateful of small raspberry tarts to LaFontaine's desk.  "Anyway, I know you'll just do what you want. I just want you to be safe."

LaFontaine touches Perry's hand over a tart. "That's just it, though. I'm not sure how safe any of us are, Perr..."

 

~~~~

 

Laura tries to bury her head deeper into her pillow and away from the klaxon calls of the dorm fire alarm. The system has been acting up recently, but 11 p.m. marks the latest time that the drill has gone off, so Laura feels the crick of apprehension in her neck as she gathers her throw blanket around her shoulders and fumbles into the hallway in her pajamas and coat. It being another cold wintery night, the floor dons have allowed students to remain crowded in the first floor common rooms, where rumor floats around and blankets and pillows are being assembled for forts.

Huddled in the corner atop the seatback of a lumpy chair, Laura's attention eventually drifts to the window - where she immediately spots Carmilla, staring right back at her, fingers holding the bright little ember of a cigarette to her mouth. Laura waves rather enthusiastically to her, in reply to which Carmilla blows out a cloud of smoke and vapor and continues to lean casually against the bike rack.

"Come inside," Laura says, her breath fogging the window, before she adds a hand gesture for emphasis. Carmilla shakes her head and looks off nonchalantly as she takes another drag. Laura feels her face scrunch up, and Carmilla just smirks at her sideways. Laura taps hard on the glass and jerks her head towards the exit, then slides from the chair and makes sure Carmilla has started moving before she leaves the window.

"Is that really necessary?" Laura asks when she opens the door to Carmilla standing in the cold winter air.

"It gives me something to do with my fingers," Carmilla replies softly as she crushes the ember between them and lets the cigarette fall to the ground. Laura saves her admonishment about littering because at least she put the thing out. Carmilla hasn't made to step inside, so Laura lets the door close behind her and shivers under her blanket.

 Carmilla nods towards the flashing red light above them. "This is the third time this week, isn't it?"

"Yea, but the alarm's never gone off this late."

"You might not get back into the dorms if the fire is as bad as it seems."

"Wait, so there is a fire?"

"Smells electrical."

"You can _smell it_?"

"Somewhat." Carmilla steps closer and rubs her hand over Laura's arm, her eyes avoiding Laura's gaze. The red light casts haunting shadows beneath Carmilla's eyes and mouth. Laura forgets about her cold toes for a second.

"Sooo, did you come back to check up on me?"

"More like check on my stuff."

"What stuff? Everything you own fits in a duffel bag."

"True." Carmilla drops her hand and looks off into the distance; at what, Laura doesn't know. She misses the contact, though.

"What's wrong?

"Vampires are super flammable, that's what." Danny says as she arrives from the night, covered warmly by a long coat.

"Ahh, Fire Engine Red's here to save the day," Carmilla drones.

Danny stands taller in her puffy winter coat. "I am, actually - Perry said the dorms will be evacuating to the student center for the night, apparently the fire is impervious to extinguishers? Anyway, I came to offer you a more comfortable place to crash," Danny turns to regard Laura.

"Is the Summer Society helping to evacuate students or something?"

"Well no, I just came to see... if you were ok? I guess it's kind of a habit now."

"Oh. Well, thanks." Laura hugs herself tighter under her blanket and feels her cheeks warm against the cold air. Carmilla remains silent and watchful for something beyond the three of them. Laura shifts closer to Danny. "So, a place to crash, you say? With warm blankets and cozy cushions?"

"And hot cocoa if you want."

"I most certainly do want," Laura bounces on her feet and ignores Carmilla's eye roll. Danny's small smile is worth it.

"The invitation extends to you too, you know, seeing as you're both homeless for the night." Danny scuffs her foot on the ground in Carmilla's direction.

"No thanks. I've got errands." And Carmilla turns brusquely away.

"Give us a minute, Danny?" and Laura puts herself quickly in front of a retreating Carmilla. She speaks under her breath, "Something's eating you, I can tell. Can we talk later?"

"Words can only do so much, buttercup," Carmilla shakes her head. "Night," and suddenly she's gone, replaced by a plume of black smoke.

"Wow, rude," Laura coughs into her blanket. She turns back to Danny who offers a weak shrug.

 

~~~~

 

"You can fall asleep if you want, you know."

"But how will you possibly manage all the stress from lesson planning without my witty banter?" Laura yawns half-way through her words, and when she opens her eyes again, Danny's got that look that tells Laura she's being adorable. She can see Danny hesitate before she reaches up and tucks a strand of Laura's hair behind her ear.

"I'll figure out a way to cope. Get comfy, little bug." Danny gathers her papers from the bed and moves them to the desk. "I won't be too much longer; you can keep the covers warm for me."

Laura mmhmms and nods and watches Danny settle down at her desk, adjusting the lamp away from the bed. As Laura lets herself ease into the comfort of Danny's simple cotton sheets, her mind drifts back to Carmilla and her moody disposition. As soon as she breaks her gaze from Danny's back and curls onto her side under the covers, Carmilla's hauntingly silent face floats across her vision.

_In this moment, as Carmilla blinks sleep out of her eyes from where she lay curled into Laura's side, the girl looks so unaffectedly all of 18 years old. Young, yearning, and a little bit afraid, Carmilla lets out a breath as though she had been holding the unnecessary thing for a long time. Laura remembers feeling an urge to wrap her closer, to protect her from whatever nightmare she had just been released from. Carmilla carries none of her centuries on her face as she stares absently at Laura's lap, her fingers tucking into the creases of Laura's dorm pants. Her young face betrays emotion across her brow. There are little musical notes stitched into Laura's pants, a memento from high school band days, and Carmilla seems to become lost in the threads between the present and past._

_"Ell was a simple girl; enjoyed the easy pleasures gifted by a sheltered life."_

_Laura remains silent and unmoving because Carmilla almost never speaks of the girl she once loved. Laura's skin prickles where Carmilla traces with the curve of her nail an eighth note on her thigh._

_"She liked to sing. Mostly the common church hymnals and nursery tales from the governess... but occasionally she'd sing about whatever took her fancy in the moment. She sang of me, once..._ Dark eyes of hidden starlight _, she thought herself quite clever for that line."_

_Laura watches as Carmilla falls into the past, seeing much farther than Laura will ever be able to imagine. Carmilla transforms from the young 18 year old girl back into a being that has lived a dozen lives. There's something Laura will never be witness to, her heart will never have a chance to reach across that chasm. There's an eternity in Carmilla's eyes much longer than the one she lives in now._

_Carmilla's voice changes when she speaks of Ell. Her words travel across centuries and countries and lives and they reach Laura's ears as a bellow underwater. There's something urgent and important in everything that Carmilla is saying right now, but it's too distorted for Laura to catch, and she's distracted by the way Carmilla's vowels start to extend and how she ends her sentences with a higher timbre..._

_"She smelled intensely of cherry tree petals. I smelled it the instant they brought me inside the schloss, believing me ill from the carriage wreck. I nearly ruined everything in that one moment... but the thought of Mother kept me quiet."_

_The thought of Carmilla's Mother has stolen Laura's voice too._

~~~~

 

Carmilla appears suddenly at the shoulder of a cold and shivering undergraduate, sucking in hot lungfuls of cigarette smoke under the light of a lamppost.

"Give me one," Carmilla demands, and the student obeys with wide eyes. Whether he knows of Carmilla by reputation or if her demeanor tonight is just that intimidating, she doesn't know, but his fingers shake as he holds his light up for her to ignite. She turns without a word, leaving the student behind baffled, with his heart racing. Carmilla melts into black smoke to rid the sound from her ears.

She reappears again at the top of the philosophy building. Beyond the Robespierre lies the skeleton of the Lustig Chapel, hunched and hulking over the Pit. In an explosion that Carmilla doesn't remember and in which, ridiculously, no one got hurt, the floor of the chapel fell away to the angry Light, leaving behind the sacrificial chasm and a larger Pit, overlooked by the ribs of the Lustig's buttresses and beams. From this distance it looks like an animal carcass that was eaten from the inside out.

A familiar, looming sense of doubt floods back into Carmilla's bones. There's something that Mother told Carmilla once, something about scent (the _scent, her scent)_ and Carmilla's head really aches from trying to piece together a memory that's no longer really there. Small words and feelings float through her.

Ell's face flashes across Carmilla's mind - there's this scent, that of willowed cherry blossoms, it's the same as -

_\- the same as the tree from your home. Remember how you told me of those afternoons, spent in your father's study in spring, the sweet, light smell of your favorite tree wafting through the window as your father -_

Carmilla can't remember the faces of her long dead family members, and eventually, decades after her murder, she no longer yearned for bloody vengeance. Mother had replaced her human family. Carmilla was told she'd never feel alone again. She can almost feel the weight of Mother's hand smoothing over her hair.

_I do understand, my darling, how such a scent could confuse and enrapture you. I was young as you once. Have faith that with time, these desires of your past life will fade. The time will come when you will never again confuse hunger for desire, and no chains will bind you._

She's still stupidly achey, and her shoulders are annoyingly taut, as though she's been carrying a huge burden around. But there's just something Carmilla can't quite explain, an unknowable reason for her prickly mood and tender body. Her mind wanders often to the Pit, even though she herself steers quite clear of it.

Mother, being so wise, ancient and strong, is probably still alive, somehow, grasping onto the threads of this reality with her knife-sharp nails.  There's a disgustingly bitter taste in Carmilla's mouth whenever she thinks about trying to outwit Mother, like a reverse Pavlovian response.

The Pit glows in the night with the Alchemy Department's blacklight orbs, shading the low-lying clouds with purple. She frowns at it. Crushes her cigarette in gravel and makes to turn away, but she sees a flash out of the corner of her eye, and whips her head quickly back - the scene looks the same. And yet, the edge of Carmilla's vision is weary, like her pupils really did adjust to a sudden blinding light from the Pit. Carmilla blinks a few times before turning her back again, completely this time. She sits on the ledge and looks at her hands. She really wants to feel Laura's hand in hers right now...

 

~~~~

 

Carmilla ascends to Danny's window, and finds Laura sleeping soundly beside Danny in her large bed. Strong fingers ease open the window and she slips inside with the pre-dawn fog. Danny's got an arm loosely draped across Laura's stomach and Laura looks like the smallest spoon in the world. The room is warm and cozy, and it makes Carmilla's head swim.

Her knees sink to the floor beside Laura's head, her hands find Laura's where they've pooled the blanket just above her belly. The neckline of her nightshirt dips low, revealing the breastbone protecting her calmly beating heart. The skin shines in the low light. Carmilla places two fingertips above Laura's heart, her nails sinking lightly into soft skin, before she ghosts them away, floating over Laura's face, her hair, hands and wrists. Laura rouses with a sigh, wetting her lips before speaking Carmilla's name and reaching out towards her. Carmilla kisses Laura's palm in near-reverence, and Laura wraps her fingers around Carmilla's dark hair, cascading down her neck.

Laura shifts under the blankets, trying to pull Carmilla with her. Carmilla braces herself over Laura, and slowly descends, watching how Laura's eyes flutter. When their lips meet, Laura lets a quiet rumble reverberate between them. Carmilla hears Danny's heart beat flicker. Carmilla's knees bump against Laura's thighs, and Laura sighs happily.

Carmilla lays her head down on Laura's pillow, watching her pale hand float over Laura's hair, her face, the crook of her neck and over her shoulder. Laura is falling back asleep, but Carmilla feels a smirk slide onto her face as Danny wakes, moving her arm off of Laura's waist when Carmilla's hand brushes against it. Her red hair is mussed and some strands cross in front of her frowning face; she lifts her chin and asks, "What're you doing here?"

"I was invited," Carmilla snakes her fingers to clutch Laura's lower back. Danny doesn't move when Carmilla brushes against her again.

"It wasn't an invitation into my bed."

"Wasn't it?"

"Shhh," Laura mumbles, rolling into Carmilla.

Danny kicks the sheets off her long legs and sits up, rubbing her face in her hands. "Oh, come now, Red, is my bedroom banter really too much?"

"Shhhhh," Laura says louder this time, her hand coming over Carmilla's face and mussing up her hair, effectively muffling Carmilla's next retort. "Sorry Danny... wait, where're you going?" Laura scoops up the covers to keep cold morning air out of the bed.

"My alarm's about to go off anyway - I need a run."

"I can tell, your heart's racing," Carmilla can't help herself. Danny keeps her back turned as she opens her closet and pulls out track pants and a jacket. Danny's heartbeat doesn't slow.

"Are you sure Danny? We can kick her out, you know."

"Excuse me?"

But Danny just throws her jacket over her shoulder "No, it's all right. Get some sleep. Both of you. No funny business in my bed."

Laura anticipates Carmilla's arch remark and successfully smoothers her with a pillow. "Lunch at the cafe again, Danny?"

Danny stifles a yawn as she turns toward the door, "Yea, sure. I'll see you after class."

Laura turns on Carmilla once Danny's footsteps are out of earshot, "Maybe let's be a little more gentle with the whole _Danny situation_ , hmm? We only just started being friends again."

"You're the one who pulled me into bed, sweetheart. Or maybe that was your plan all along," Carmilla buries herself into Laura's side.

"Oh, stop being so feisty. The sun's almost up; be a good vampire and go to sleep." Laura tucks the comforter around Carmilla's shoulders and sinks back into bed. Carmilla feels her head swimming with vanilla curls and cinnamon sheets. Laura's voice is much quieter a few moments later, "I really like both of you... it'd be nice if you could at least get along."

Laura's heart eventually slows down to match the speed of her hand running through Carmilla's hair. Carmilla falls asleep before Laura does.

 

~~~~

 

Danny halts briefly at the amount of people crammed into the small space of Room 307. The somber air hits her immediately before she notices Laura and Perry huddled close to LaFontaine on Laura's bed.

"It feels like I lost a friend... it was there for the good times and the bad. My Netflix queue could see into my soul."

"I know, honey, I know," Perry soothes. LaFontaine's eyes are dry, which Danny is thankful for, but forlorn, which Danny is worried about. Carmilla is spread out on her bed, seemingly indifferent as per usual, and Kirsch sits with his feet lightly turning Laura's computer chair back and forth.

"Dare I ask?" she ventures, scooting over to Carmilla's side of the packed room. Laura nods in greeting and continues to rub LaFontaine's back. "That mysterious dorm fire? It torched LaFontaine's laptop. _Only_ the laptop - nothing else caught fire."

Perry picks up, "I've already informed the Superintendent about the faulty extinguishers on this floor - they had absolutely no effect, we had to wait until the fire spent itself out. It won't do if we have another accident -"

"Accident? This was a message! Someone's not happy with our truth-seeking."

"Obviously," Carmilla scoffs. "You lot have never been very good about keeping your 'investigations' six feet under." Carmilla sits up, and Danny moves to occupy the space at the top of the bed, but Carmilla still leaves her leg outstretched and obstructing. So Danny shoves it aside.

"I thought you were using the campus computers to infiltrate the Ethernet - how'd they track you to your laptop?" Danny tucks her hair behind one ear and leans forward.

"I - I may have been... back-hacked. They almost got J.P. actually."

"So you think someone tried to silence you both?" Laura whispers worriedly, but Perry shushes her quickly, "No one's tried to hurt anyone - "

"This was an attempt on J.P.'s life, how is that not upsetting? And he's essentially homeless now! " LaFontaine looks up at Perry with mild shock.

"I have to believe that fire was just a fire, and that no one is - "

Carmilla scoffs hard to interrupt, " - attacking students? Wake up, Mrs. Hudson, this place has been a human smorgasbord for a host of baddies for centuries. I know you're not dumb enough to believe that the hammer isn't going to drop - "

But Perry stands up suddenly and backs away toward the closet, "THAT IS EXACTLY why I'm _helping_ the Superintendent! I've _read_ the student handbook, I've known about the dubious safety of this _institution_ since day one! But causing a panic among the general populace is _never_ a good strategy for peacekeeping, and I'm doing the best that I can to keep us all SAFE."

The room is quiet following Perry's outburst. Perry shakes her hands in front of her, "We're on the same page... but speaking different languages." She turns to LaFonatine, at a lost. "And I didn't mean - I wouldn't - " Perry flounders before taking a deep breath. "I understand that our safety isn't completely in the hands of Administration, but I just don't think building an army and rabble-rousing is the best option."

LaFontaine looks at her with sad eyes, "I was taken, Perry, and I don't know what happened to me. There's gotta be answers out there, and I can't just... stop." Perry purses her lips and her eyes crinkle, brimming.

"I wish there was a way I could give you the answers you seek... but the Superintendent has become very sensitive about news regarding the Pit... he's firm that students should be focused on their normal activities. I'm to report to him about any... extra-curriculars."

"So if we wanna keep crusading for justice," Laura flicks her eyes briefly at Perry, "or whatever and stuff, then we just have to be more covert, right? Like last time?" Carmilla coughs loudly.

"I'm afraid I can't... have any more part in this. I know I can't stop you, so I... I think I just better be going." Perry's shoulders hitch themselves up and she turns briskly and gets to the door, but not before her arm comes up to wipe over her eyes.  "If you must continue in this way... you'll have to do it off campus." Perry leaves, shutting the creaky door with a little more force than necessary. The room is still in her wake.

 

"What about the library at the Zeta House?" Kirsch finally speaks up, seemingly caught up to the conversation.  Danny regards Kirsch with a stunned look, "Library...?"

"It's more like a storage space, no one ever uses it - "

 "Oh ok, that makes more sense," Danny nods.

"- but there's an old computer that's not connected to the Silas Ethernet. I know because I tried to email a last minute paper with it before Reading Week, and it kinda blew a fuse or something. But it still works, like, you can get on Twitter and stuff... does that help?"

Laura's computer beeps, and Danny realizes for the first time that J.P. is also with them. _Using a separate server connection to gain access to the Ethernet might give us a bit more cover,_ his message reads across the screen.

Lafontaine considers this a moment. "It's possible, I guess."

"It'll be like a secret headquarters! It's so messy that no one ever goes in there. Except to make out during parties. So we might have to just make you a corner in the back."

"We already have a headquarters at the Summer House, " Danny says with arms crossed. "And no one makes out in it."

"That you know of, " Carmilla smirks, and Danny gives an affronted look between Carmilla and Laura. Laura raises her hands and shakes her head quickly.

~~~~


	5. Conspiracies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> J.P. gets a new home with the Zetas, non-PG stuff happens(yay!), the beginnings of a plan are formulated - and LaFontaine crashes the Alchemy Club. It's getting more interesting, I promise.  
> Word Count ~5500

**~~~~**

"Can't say I'm thrilled that the base of our operations is located in the back room of a frat house, to be honest," Danny says as she ascends the front steps, nodding awkwardly at a couple of Zetas raising their red plastic cups to her from their stance around a trash bin fire.

"Danny, chill. This is just our _investigative branch_ \- the Summers' Library nook is still home base," Laura tosses with her hair over her shoulder as she shrugs the box of historical records and weapon inventories into the  small room just to the left of the Zeta Omega Mu Entrance Hall(way. It's just a hallway, let's be honest).

"I think it makes a great cover," LaFontaine smiles proudly as they usher in the gang to the library. "Who's gonna suspect the Zeta House as a front for a secret organization of student justice-seekers?" Boxes of storage and field hockey equipment and a few snowboards have aligned to make a neat little cubicle of research for LaFontaine and J.P.

"We're a joint operation, so let's act like one. Maybe now your respective minions can stop fighting constantly," Laura teases Danny's elbow.

"Doubtful, but I'm willing to let tradition slide if it means we survive the semester." Danny sits on a stack of storage tubs so Kirsch can squeeze into the room.

"Wow, LaF, you've really turned this place around. I can actually _see_ a bookshelf! And there's books on it! That's crazy!" Kirsch high-fives LaFontaine. Danny rolls her eyes over to Laura. Laura smiles.

"The system's not too bad for a hunk-a-junk. Like the room, it functions better now that I've got rid of a lot of the crap just taking up space. J.P. seems to enjoy his new home too," and LaFontaine pats the top of the dusty monitor, where J.P.'s monochrome image flickers brightly.

_The fellows have been most welcoming, just as they were my first year as a Zeta Omega Mu inductee! Several good-spirited lads continue to offer me libations whenever they pass, despite my many dismissals. It seems they have yet to grasp my non-corporeal reality -_

"Ok, I've seen it, can I go now?" Carmilla interrupts from behind Laura, leaning on the doorway.

"Oh that's right, I forgot you're allergic to being any sort of helpful." Danny crosses her arms and leans against a box...which slowly slides from behind her and topples over.

"This place is still a mess, if we're gonna be spending time in here we should at least make it more comfortable." Laura crinkles her nose. "And maybe get rid of whatever is making that weird foot smell."

"That... might be permanent," Kirsch says, rubbing his still-healing arm. J.P beeps from the desktop.

_The aroma of brotherhood! The Fraternity of Zeta Omega Mu shaped my valor and principles, I would hardly be the man I am today without them._

Kirsch slams his fist into his heart. "Right on, bro."

Carmilla clenches her fist and avoids meeting Laura's stare. Uncurling her fist just enough to grab the edge of a dresser blocking half of the bookshelf, Carmilla lifts the whole thing into the air, phases through to the opposite corner, kicks a cardboard box out of the way, and drops the heavy wooden chest with little grace.

"I helped. I'm leaving now." And she opens the nearby window, and is gone.

"That was more than I was expecting to get out of her," Laura hums.

 

**~~~~**

"We should really do this more often," Laura gasps out, her voice reverberating off the wall, and she puts a hand on it to steady herself, her fingers gripping into the drywall.

"We could have been doing this sooner if you came with me when I left," Carmilla nibbles into the flesh between Laura's neck and shoulder.

"Maybe we should have a signal, then," Laura lick her lips and threads her hands into Carmilla's hair.

"Like a coquettish wink?" and Carmilla pulls back to give her just such a gesture, followed by a thoroughly blazing visual once-over, leaving Laura's body burning.

"That's not very subtle, but I like it."

"There are certain things about which I am not subtle."

That much is clear to Laura, who lets her head drop heavy onto her yellow pillow as Carmilla slides between her legs and unbuttons Laura's top from neck to chest. Laura's hands run from the wildnerness of Carmilla's hair to explore the plains of her back, coming around the valleys at her sides and the coasts of her arms. Laura is far, far away from Silas in this moment.

But her fingers catch on something when she tries to cup the swell of Carmilla's breast, and Carmilla's lips open on Laura's breastbone, and she can feel the graze of a tooth. Laura's eyes open to take in the dim candlelight bouncing on the ceiling, and see's Carmilla's anchor necklace glint in reflection where it lays peeking out between them. Before Laura can ask, Carmilla resumes her trail of kisses, but they are lighter, and they drift in the opposite direction from where they were headed a moment ago.

Carmilla has this infuriating way of slowing down whenever things get too heated between them. Before Laura realizes, there's a cooling distance between their bodies, and Carmilla's lips leave softer trails until they just... pull away. Laura comes back naturally to her breath.  She blinks her eyes slowly open and finds Carmilla's unreadable. Carmilla then brings Laura into her as a precious something, curls her body around Laura's like a shawl and Laura whispers kisses to Carmilla's shoulder as she feels the thrumming below her belly slowly fade.

After a few minutes, Laura scrunches her face up in mild concern. "Are you ok, Carmilla?"

Carmilla's eyes graze over Laura's face, as though seeing deeper. Laura can see her mind working behind her sad eyes, but she's no clue about what. Carmilla finally exhales and Laura feels a blessing in the breath, " I was miserable for a very long time. Sometimes, you make me forget about that."

Laura senses a 'but' coming, so she waits. It takes another round of breathing before Carmilla shifts to lay on her back, putting just a little more distance between them.  "But I fear there are circumstances I will never be able to escape." Laura threads her fingers over Carmilla's palm and holds the connection. "Even if I want to," Carmilla adds in small voice.

 

~~~~

 

"... Are we having the sex talk? Is that what this is about? Should I get you some pamphlets?"

"Oh god, Perry no, please don't! I mean... it _is_ about sex, but it's more like... we're on different levels about it. Like different pages of the same book, and I don't know how to get her to... skip to the next chapter already," Laura finishes somewhat lamely. Even with Perry's comfortable bed and her special mix of cinnamon chai  and cocoa powder, she can see Laura's embarrassment on her face, so Perry tries to smile comfort towards her.

"But you say she she's initiated intimacy more often," Perry recounts, tucking her feet under her on the bed and sipping from her mug.

"Yes. We just haven't... finished what we started. So I don't think it's a question of readiness..." Perry continues sipping while she lets Laura work things out in her head. Laura takes another sip as well before making eye contact again. "But it's also about her mood in general. We all know she can be broody, but sometimes she's really... distant. Almost like she's in another world."

Perry flashes on the color of LaFontaine's skin in the synthetic light of computer screens, and she sighs,  "Certain people need a little more down-time, I think." But then Perry shakes her head to bring the focus back to Laura, who needs her.  "But if this is really bothering you, you should talk to her about it."

Laura finishes empties her mug and puts it down on the counter, "I guess that's the answer I knew was coming.  I just have to _do it_."

Perry nods and pushes a container towards Laura, "Here's that cup of sugar that brought you over here, but I'm glad you stayed to talk anyway. Granted, all of this advice is much easier said than done... I suppose there's a couple things I've been sweeping under the rug that should probably... not be."

Laura hugs Perry tight around the middle before scooping up her sugar.

"Better get back to making Midnight Brownies at 2 A.M."

"I find twilight to be the best time for baking," Perry adds nonchalantly.

"Thanks again, Perry. And I hope... it all works out."

"In some way or another, I believe it will. Goodnight."

 

~~~~

 

Kirsch flips onto his bed and spreads his arms out, "Welcome to Casa de Brody!"

"Little small for a casa," Danny teases while she gazes around the tiny dorm room, plastered with posters and littered with recyclables.

"True, but hear me out: right here we got the master bedroom, which is conveniently within reach of the mini-fridge-exclusive kitchen, and just a few steps walking distance to the spa-area, which has recently been cleaned, so it doesn't smell so much. Turns out there was a corndog behind the toilet, not sure for how long."

"Gross," Danny smiles at Kirsch as she sits at the edge of his bed. Kirsch watches Danny scrutinize a poster on the far wall, over the side of the room that remains relatively Spartan. Thick and frayed at the edges, the _Nursery Cryme_ poster boasts the large, illegible signatures of band members in the bottom corner.

"That's Will's. They came in like a day after,  took everything... but I managed to hide this one. He said he got them to sign it at their first European tour, which I never believed, but I guess a vampire could have met Genesis in their prime."

Danny keeps her eyes on the poster as she says softly, "I'm sorry you had to lose so much, Kirsch."

"It's a weird feeling, being angry and sad and not knowing who to punch for it," Kirsch says, curling into himself and leaning over the bed with elbows on knees.

"I'd really like to punch the Dean," Danny says, sliding her eyes to Kirsch before letting her smile lift a little. Kirsch nods and mirrors the small smile.

"I guess I get it now, why Will always made sure the Zetas stayed off the Dean's shit-list, even with all our shenanigans. Man, some of those parties had to have been illegal somehow..."

Danny gives Kirsch a stern-cross-concerned look. "Will was the Dean's lapdog, and a rat. And he tried to sacrifice you. I know it's a shock to lose somebody, but I hope you aren't mourning him, Kirsch,"

Kirsch avoids her gaze by leaning over to turn on the stereo. Queens of the Stone Age fill the room with reverberating bass and a hard snare, and Kirsch wraps himself in a protective shell. He rifles through the Zeta Omega Mu Record of Times that he borrowed from the newly discovered bookshelf in the Zeta library.

"He had his moments. He got me my fake ID. And pulled me back from a couple dumb fights I got myself into afterwards."

Danny shakes her head as the mix washes out from _In My Head_ and cow-bell's it's way into _Little Sister._

"If you need someone to drink with and tell you when you're being a stupid idiot, you don't have to look very far, bro. Seriously," and Danny puts a hand on Kirsch's knee, and she still seems a little awkward in the gesture, but it means the world to Kirsch that she's trying, and it does make him feel better that even though he lost a lot of important people, he's not alone.

Kirsch hides his embarrassment in the tome, "There might be something in here about how to officially induct an outsider into the Zeta Frat, so then you can come to all our events for free."

"I'm pretty sure I'm fine with the cover for the one Zeta-sponsored party that I allow myself each year, thanks."

"Oh. Wow..."

Danny shrugs and leans back against Kirsch's wall, "Just because I hang out with _you_ doesn't mean I've got the mental fortitude to deal with 30 more dudebros. It's just the hard truth, kid - "

"No, no, I mean _'wow_ , _I think I just found something important_ ,' " Kirsch looks up with an excitedly confused face.

 

~~~~

 

 Laura becomes distracted from saving her current recording because Carmilla has hot cocoa in Laura's Tardis mug and has just snuggled comfortably atop Laura's bed, sipping slowly and watching Laura over the brim with a gleam in her eyes. Laura's been a little worried about Carmilla's recent mood swings, but seeing her practically humming with energy draws Laura in like a moth to flame. Obviously, it's too much temptation for Laura to think about anything else, so the camera keeps recording as Laura takes her place beside Carmilla.

They banter about unimportant things and share the cocoa. Laura can't seem to relax, so she takes bigger gulps than she might usually, while Carmilla just stays tucked into her side, occasionally rolling her neck or pushing her bangs behind her ear and making her hair trickle little trails of electricity over Laura's naked shoulder under her tank top. Laura finishes her cocoa and uses the movement of reaching to put it on her headboard to slide her other hand behind Carmilla and settle her fingers at an expanse of hip.Carmilla's eyes slide darkly to rest on Laura, and Laura can't help the quirk of her smile because she feels like she's been caught but not minding that she's trapped.

Her fingers seek a little more purchase at Carmilla's curves and she is rewarded with Carmilla dipping her head to float her nose across Laura's cheek, inhaling deeply. Carmilla's breath comes out hot against Laura's chin, and Laura dives in, her lips connecting soundly and her whole body contracting.Laura loses track of time and place, her hands have been lost too, running un-tethered through Carmilla's hair and across her skin and over her clothing, which really is becoming a hindrance.But it's not too much longer before Laura starts to feel the ride come to a slow coast. They seem to have taken a detour somewhere, and now Laura finds herself disheveled in Carmilla's arms, blinking her eyes open to see the vampire watching her, her hand lightly running the side of her face. Carmilla's eyes stretch out for eons and her voice crosses the centuries.

" _Lijepa djevojko, slatka djevojko ... kako me možeš gledati sa takvim očima..."_

~~~~

 

"Pretty girl, sweet girl... I wish you wouldn't look at me with those eyes..." is what Laura translates from Carmilla as she lays next to on-screen Laura, sweeping her hand through Laura's locks.

At the time when Carmilla spoke those foreign words, Laura really wasn't in a mental state to recognize the hard clicks of her Croatian dialect, but monitoring the video footage now has brought this realization to light. Laura knows what happens next, so she chooses to rewind the footage again, from the time Carmilla slid onto her bed with cocoa and temptation.

The framing is sadly not completely privy to the actions that drove Laura so very near to some edge she's been eyeing for some time now. It catches all the eyelash flutters and the licking of lips and the slow crawl of fingers across Laura's stomach, catching and dragging the soft material of her shirt up her body. It can clearly see Laura's eyes go slack and then really, really wide when Carmilla shifts her thigh between Laura's legs. But then Carmilla rolls on top of Laura, like literally _pours_ over her, and all that the screen shows is Carmilla's dark hair contrasting brilliantly with her light shirt. Laura's sweatpants-covered legs tip back and forth in pleasurable happiness. Which is something Laura was not aware that she did until this accidental video captured it.

Laura's leg curls around Carmilla's thigh, her hands can't be seen, but there are soft sighs echoing into the air.Carmilla's shirt is being slowly tugged upward, until Carmilla breaks away and lifts it from her shoulders. She drops it behind her as she adjusts herself over Laura who's scooted back on her bed, and from the computer monitor, Laura admires the muscles in Carmilla's back flex with energy.

The sky outside the window has slowly dripped from orange to red. A fairylight above the kitchen _bzzts_ to life, its small red lantern shade casting a colored reflection against the windowpane.

Carmilla says something into Laura's shoulder, but it's too quiet to hear. But whatever words Carmilla has spoken moves Laura to cling to Carmilla's bare back, pressing her closer, and Laura's face looks more flush under the fading sunlight. Carmilla shifts her hips closer into Laura, who in turn lifts her knees and wraps her calves around Carmilla's black tights.

This is when the black crow lands at the windowsill. Neither girl takes notice, their hands wandering and attentions distracted. It taps at the window, twice. Carmilla's left hand floats down Laura's side to grab the back of her thigh.  On-screen Laura makes a gasp that makes off-screen Laura blush, but that's when Carmilla's motion starts to slow. Her body comes to a rest alongside Laura, her hand draws slower and smaller circles over Laura's hip, and eventually, somehow, Carmilla brings them back to 10 after speeding along at 100 km per hour. Carmilla speaks that strange Croatian phrase again, and Laura still doesn't understand what she means, but she's no time to decipher the distance between them, because that's when the crow caws loudly. Carmilla's head shoots up, and Laura wraps herself tighter around Carmilla's legs but shoves their chests apart. "Wh-What was that?"

Carmilla stands from the bed, letting Laura's hand drag down, but doesn't untangle their fingers. The crow at the window caws one more time, loudly, before flying off, and Carmilla, bare-chested and furrow-browed, lets herself sink to the edge of Laura's bed. The camera doesn't pick up the sadness that Laura remembers hearing when Carmilla says just one word: "Maman..."

~~~~

 

"It's incredibly cramped in here."

"I'm sorry your heredity for tallness is making this situation uncomfortable, Danny, but it's all we've got to work with," LaFontaine grunts as they shove a box back with their shoulder.

Danny moves to the space LaFontaine just created for her, but continues to whine.

"On the contrary, we've got a really rather nice space that's conducive to strategic planning _and sans_ frat boy debris. And there's actual _chairs_ at the Summer House, rather than upturned buckets and bean-filled sacks."

"Hey you've got some of those too, I've seen 'em," Kirsch crosses his arms in front of his chest, but knocks his elbow on the edge of a dresser while doing so, and curses to himself.

"For right now, we're gonna feed J.P. all we can from that Zeta book, and then maybe _next time_ we'll meet where you're a little more comfortable, ok?" LaFontaine starts typing away at the no-longer dusty computer, while Kirsch nods with a serious face and starts flipping through the Zeta Record of Times. Danny's eyebrows quirk but she keeps quiet, which LaFontaine is thankful for. The breakthrough of Kirsch's discovery has given them the first inspirations of a plan since the quakes started, and it's making LaFontaine's head buzz with ideas and theories.

Kirsch places his leg up on a storage box and balances the Record on his knee.  He reads. "This Willow tree, located at the northeast corner of the Silas campus, is adorned with a bronzed plaque, honoring those many brave Zeta Omega Mu Brothers who sacrificed and toiled in the construction of the passageway to Fövaran Village in the valley next. From the tree's location, the massive mountain can be seen as a somber symbol of the desperate obstacles that stood between the Silas Institution and the regrettable events of 1870."

He looks up. "And that's it. That's all it says. Plus the picture of the tree, but the quality looks crap."

"That passageway could be our escape route," Danny leans over Kirsch's shoulder, "and I think I know where that tree is, the passage must be in the woods behind it."

"You mean if it's still there, given the century and a half of being unheard of - decommissioned, destroyed...And what were the 'regrettable events of 1870' anyway?" LaFontaine turns back to the computer as J.P. types, _I'm cross-referencing for any connections between the Fraternity and notable events from that year, but not much is matching up. That's probably to do with the extensive secret-society tropes the Fraternity was built upon._

"Oh, of course - _everything_ at Silas is part of some secret or another that nobody talks about for fear of bad things. Got it," LaFontaine sasses.

"Then it's just one more secret waiting for us to unravel it. What's the next step?" Kirsch closes the book in his lap and leans forward with interest.

Danny answers, "We organize a search for the passage. We have the general direction; northeast until we hit mountain."

LaFonatine cringes slightly, "But we can't draw too much attention to ourselves - a bunch of students taking off unsolicited to wander the woods is a little suspicious, even for Silas."

"I volunteer," Kirsch hits his chest with his fist, "as a Zeta Brother and sworn protector of the bodies of students, I'm honor-bound to lead this adventure."

"Uhm, excuse you, but the Sisters and I have spent countless more hours in the forest, it's safer for me to go. Although your bravery is noted."

LaFontaine throws a hand up, "Before we do anything, we need to bring Laura in on the plan. Not only is she Red Team Leader, but she's also the one with the vampire girlfriend. Who might prove useful in the unknown wilderness."

Danny scowls slightly. LaFontaine shrugs, "Just trying to be smart here, guys."

 

~~~

 

Laura busies herself with organizing the books on her desk based on the order of assignments she needs to do that night. Carmilla's half of the room has a palpable amount of silent brooding and it might be a shade darker than usual because even though the sun is setting through the window, it can't seem to brighten any place where Carmilla exists. But she probably likes it like that, so Laura has left a respectable distance between them since she returned after her last class of the day.

But it's nearing six p.m. and there's an Operation Dragoon meeting at the Summer House. Carmilla seems to have not even left her sheets today. Presently, she shifts over and Laura notices her eyes settle into staring absently at Laura's pillow across from her.

She squats down at Carmilla's bed, meeting her at eye level.

"You won't come to the meeting?"

"You can debrief me when you're back." She shrugs her blanket over her shoulders, breaking her gaze. "I didn't sleep well."

Laura curls her hand on Carmilla's sheets. Carmilla focuses on it.

"Do you want me to bring you anything?"

"No."

Laura tenses on the sheets, but then lets go as she stands. Before she leaves, she brings the yellow pillow over to the edge of Carmilla's bed. She gets the door open before Carmilla calls out to her.

"Yes?" Laura turns quickly over her shoulder.

"You're out of cookies," Carmilla leans her head back so her bangs fall away, her arms opening to scoop the pillow into them, and Laura's lips purse over a tiny smile as she nods quickly, and walks through the door.

At the meeting, LaFontaine explains their new system of infiltration into the Silas network via the Zeta connection, plus the exciting news that there might be an escape route out of Silas, if the Big Bang ever comes to fruition. Danny and Kirsch seem frothing at the bit to organize an expedition, but the gang looks to Laura for the plan of attack. Laura has to remind herself to chill - they need a little more information before they trek out into the winter woods that are probably not just "your-average-type" woods. But in the meantime the new secret mission seems to have galvanized the biologist and created a firmer standing of friendship between them, Danny and Kirsch. Apparently they have inside jokes now, which makes Laura smile because there was a time when she worried for Danny feeling too much like an outsider, and for LaF feeling lonely without Perry by their side, and even for Kirsch who still looks a little sad sometimes. But as they all share a meal of post-meeting take-out, Laura smiles because she sees them all as family.

 

~~~~

 

Carmilla remembers a time after being freed from her underground cell, roaming untamed and feeling powerfully vindictive. Following her sudden freedom from Mother, Carmilla did as she pleased. Lived like a wrathfully bored teen runaway.  There were few things Carmilla claimed to own, but when she fed, her thoughts turned singularly to one mantra, repeated over and over.

_mine mine mine mine._

And it took her a few years to grow distasteful with her behavior. A girl behind a bakery shop in Kiev called her a monster one wintery day. Heretofore it never bothered her, but suddenly Carmilla felt the chill of the coffin and the blood crusting between her teeth and gums and she saw Ell in that little bonneted-belochka, smelled chocolate wafting through the air, felt pure white snow falling on her skin where it didn't melt, and Carmilla wanted to _die._

But then Mother found her again, and again she was shackled, a monster with a leash. The years wore down on Carmilla like acid rain on limestone. Silas was as much a home as a pit in the ground; its walls too slippery and crumbling to allow escape. So Carmilla would escape into books, and journals, and the minds of philosophers musing about the stars. Escape was only ever temporary.

But now, with Laura, escape seems plausible. Happiness seems within reach. She can feel it sometimes, warming the tips of her fingers, as they thread through Laura's bed-head. She can taste a kind of freedom when their lips meet.

And it terrifies her.

Carmilla's eyes jerk behind lids as sleep falls way to dreamy vision. There is so much light Carmilla is afraid it will scorch her retinas - all she sees, all she is surrounded by, is whiteness. And in front of her, floating into view, is a figure, dressed in the same blinding shade. She's ethereally beautiful, and even though it's too bright to give away any distinctive features, Carmilla is not dumb. It can only be Ell, and this is the very first time the girl has spoken to her, but all Carmilla hears is the foreign language of ancient tongues. So it figures that Carmilla can't understand what must be an important message for Ell to finally appear before her.

Carmilla closes her dream-eyes, shuts out the vision of unearthly Ell and focuses on her voice, which courses over Carmilla in cold rivulets, although sparks of warmth come to surface as certain words, in Sumerian, speaking of the Hunter, of white sea side cliffs, of protection...

Carmilla jerks awake, realizing she's thrown the covers off her, and is inexplicably clutching a butter knife like a weapon. There's a shallow cut on the cuff of her opposite hand, a slit between thumb and wrist bones. Her body still feels too foreign. Exasperated, Carmilla flings the utensil back into the kitchen sink, "Purgatory would be less frustrating than this."

 

~~~~

 

The Alchemy Club keeps secrets. But they also have a tendency to let some of those secrets slip. Like the zombie-mushroom infestation. Or the bar-fight black-lights that showed up quite conveniently. So LaFontaine is hopeful a few more arcane clues might find their way to the light to aid in the search for a concrete escape plan.

Turns out alchemists are not so generous.

"J-just because the Alchemy Club has a general open-door po-policy for curious students DOES NOT mean you can just bub-burst in here and start demanding answers to your rid- ridiculous questions!"

LaFontaine barely stumbles as their arm is pushed quite weakly by a scrawny kid in glasses. LaFontaine can't find the ire to rebuke the "attack."

"I'm not demanding, I'm just strongly suggesting that you help me out here. I'm looking out for all of us, I promise you."

Another Alchemy Club member, and LaFontaine guesses that this older, possibly graduate student, is the Head Honcho, merely by the way he stood up from his chair. "I'm gonna have to ask you to leave if you keep harassing my alchemists."

"Just one more question, answer it and I'm gone, I swear - ! "

The Head Honcho shakes his head in a surprisingly patient manner ( _like he's done this before?)_ and starts to move toward LaFontaine.

" **-** _In 1870,_  something bad happened in a village nearby - do you have any record of it?"

The Honcho stops for a brief second, but it's long enough for LaFontaine to catch. LaFontaine searches quickly the faces surrounding the experiment table, where a dried turnip and a beaker of burgundy liquid sit coolly next a Bunsen burner - and they see recognition in the eyes of a possibly younger Honcho, a junior Honcho. But before LaFontaine can ask a follow up, the room is blocked by the older, but still kinda-small head and shoulders of the Head Honcho.

"Leave now, please. Or else I'll be forced to take down your student number and report you for tribunal consideration."

"Ok Sheesh, I'm going... going."

But LaFontaine doesn't go. Instead LaFontaine waits outside the hallway, patiently observing the Club filter out as the clock runs closer to noon - lunch time. Being a fellow scientist, LaFontaine knows the best work is done on a reasonably full stomach. Perry still makes sure LaFontaine eats regularly, even if there's a bit more silence between their shared sandwich bites and slurps of soup. LaFontaine mentally pushes the acid creeping up from their stomach back down, and marks the eighth person to leave the room.

Sneaking back in, LaFontaine is unsurprised to find just two alchemists remaining in the common area, one of them being the Junior Honcho. The other, a Freshman seemingly, brushes her bushy hair behind her shoulders quickly and hikes her backpack up into her chest when LaFontaine enters the room. This disquiets LaFontaine.

"Relax, will ya? I'm working for you, not against you."

"That remains to be seen, stranger." Junior Honcho has a small patch of facial hair dusting the edge of his chin, and his shirt seems to self-illuminate, possibly with some wacked-out al-chemical detergent.

"It's strange how secretive this club is, isn't it? How long have you lot been around Silas, but we don't see half of what y'all are working on, unless it happens to escape?"

"Some experiments require precisely controlled environments in order to test properly, so perhaps meddling in issues unrelated to yourself is what's more irresponsible."

"You know what happened in 1870 **.** Don't lie to me." LaFontaine cuts straight to the point.

The Frosh girl squeaks before running out of the room. Junior Honcho crosses his arms in front of his chest but steps a foot back. LaFontaine moves closer.

"It's tiresome to relive the tragedies of the past. You'd be wise to stop digging, else you find yourself roughly 6 feet below."

"Is that a threat?"

"It's a suggested warning based on increasingly observed evidence that anyone who asks as many questions as you often finds themselves in unfortunate situations. I would know."

LaFontaine lets their mouth hang open a little while trying to search this young-looking but old-sounding man.

"Then you must know why I can't stop searching," LaFontaine ventures, not sure if it's the right thing to say.

But the Junior Honcho softens somewhat. "I knew that girl, Sarah Jane. She was enrolled in my advanced chemistry class. I also knew what that boy, William, was. It became clear to me quickly that my concerns were doing more harm than good. And I know who you are, one of the students who survived the Lustig when it was most dangerous."

Junior Honcho reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell phone, but as he does, his keys slip out and clatter loudly to the ground between them. LaFontaine glances at them, but the Junior holds his gaze.

"In Alchemy, time is our only constant. I have just enough time to grab lunch before I'm needed back at my experiments. I pray you cease these actions that are attracting undesired attention, for your own sake."

LaFontaine juts their jaw to the left and nods while clasping their hands behind their back and heel-spinning slowly out of the Junior's way. "Yep, sure thing."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CROATIAN BIT:  
> "Lijepa djevojko, slatka djevojko ... kako me možeš gledati sa takvim očima..."  
> "Pretty girl, sweet girl... I wish you wouldn't look at me with those eyes..." 
> 
> I was told this translation by a wonderful tumblr user BUT IT WAS A WHILE AGO AND I'M SORRY BUT I DON'T HAVE OUR MESSAGES ANYMORE but consider this your translator's credit (TELL ME YOUR NAME, PLEASE, I HOPE YOU READ THIS).


	6. The Tunnel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE TUNNEL (!)  
> Feelings and memories and just a lot of shoe-gazing, really (they're on a hike, it happens).  
> (~4300 words)

~~The Tunnel~~

 

Kirsch folds his hands behind his head, tilted to the side,  "Ok, but I still don't get how you dig a hole in a mountain with slime. Seems gross."

LaFontaine nods in agreement while patting a brown leather folding case, lettered in gold with the Alchemy Club's insignia. "It's Alchemy, it's always gross. But according to these experiment records, the slime transmutes solid rock into something viscous - er, 'goopy'. As if we haven't had enough experience with _that."_

 _"_ The Zeta's sponsored the research, and together they cut a tunnel in less than 5 days, so they could save that village, Fövaran, that was in trouble, but we don't know what from." Kirsch runs over his facts in his head, keeping things chronological and ordered.

"Something terrible happened to that village, obviously, and the Dean probably had something to do with it." Kirsch notices how Danny turns slightly towards Carmilla, who sits up a little straighter in her chair.

"Not that I'm defending my _saint_ of a Mother or anything, but we took - " Carmilla makes exaggerated air quotes, " - a _'family vacation'_ that year. I'd say she was too busy making enemies in the balmy Dalmatia coast to be much concerned with Silas."

"But you didn't even hear anything about it when you came back to Styria? How does nobody hear about a whole village disappearing?"

"I think you know the answer to that question," Carmilla says brusquely. Danny narrows her eyes. "All I know is that Mother was particularly zestful about preparing for the next sacrifice. She never told me anything, but I suspected there had been an upset in her precious Order."

"Weren't you supposed to be her _favorite_? Why didn't she trust you with this kind of information?" Danny goads.

"If you recall, I was locked away in a tomb for my _insubordination_ for what I was sure would be the rest of my eternity. _So, sorry_ if my knowledge of the inner workings of this hell hole are not meeting expectations." Carmilla's voice is laced with sarcasm, even Kirsch hears it quite clearly, but it's the first time Kirsch has seen Carmilla look away from someone after delivering a line like that.

Kirsch can guess based on how Laura's lips are pursed and her eyes are squinting at the carpet that the tension is high, so he tries to help. He nudges Danny's arm and says quietly, "Not cool, bro."

Danny takes in a breath and her shoulders deflate with its release. "Sorry."

Carmilla rolls her neck and regards Danny from under her bangs, "That apologetic lip pout isn't as flattering as you think."

Danny drops her head back in exasperation, and Laura swoops in for the redirect, "So this tunnel, eh!" She throws her hands up in front of her to exaggerate. Using them, she directs the room's attention back to the alchemy File and the Zeta Record. "So we know that there's a tunnel built through the mountain that goes all the way to the next valley, which may or may not hold a haunted ghost town. We know it's roughly 5 miles which is a pretty decent hike, and... we think it's still open? Are we sure? Even after a couple centuries?" Laura asks LaFontaine.

"The overall soundness of a construction technique that involves hurling spherical goo explosives to cut through a mountain is questionable, yes, but the experiment results didn't mention anything about a degradation rate, and in fact they mark the project a complete success. On the other hand, it could be blocked by natural phenomenon, a rockslide or something," LaFontaine remarks while pouring over the file yet again.

Kirsch speaks up. "The only way to know for sure - "

" - is to check it out," Danny and Kirsch finish their sentence together. Kirsch smiles brightly but Danny kinda gives him an eyebrow arch. They both turn to Laura,  "I want to go," said simultaneously, and Kirsch cheers with his hand raised for a high-five, and after a moment of shaking her head, Danny quickly deals him one.

"Ok so, Kirsch and Danny _andalsoCarmilla_ will go check out the tunnel, LaFontaine and I will meet between classes and go over escape scenarios and we'll all be back at the dorms before dinner, yes? Great, awesome, good meeting." Laura begins to move things about, before she glances to check Carmilla's reaction. Kirsch guesses the vampire he affectionately calls Fangs (but only in his head) probably has a stick up her butt about teaming up with them, but he's surprised to see her lean her chin into her hand and say, "I've got nothing better to do." Laura lights up, and Kirsch kinda _sees it_ now.

"So everyone's good on the plan, yes?" Laura asks one more time, because she's considerate and Kirsch always liked that about her.

Danny leans forward in that way that means she's thinking seriously, and says, "Aside from stockpiling antique armor and any pointy-ish weapons we can find, this is the first _real_ plan that we've had, and it sits with me a lot better that we have an escape route ready in case the apocalypse happens in the middle of English Lit."

"Good to go, Red Team Leader, " LaFontaine grins up at Laura, who beams back. "May the Force be with us... Or at least a little bit of good timing and luck."

 

~~~~

 

"So something really unlucky has just happened." Laura's voice is a couple octaves higher than normal over Danny's phone. Danny stops walking and Kirsch bumps into her side.

"You sound a little frantic, what's going on?"

"Perry just told me that the Superintendent has sent a Fraternity Regulations Inspector to survey the stability of the Zeta House, because of the quakes," Laura rattles off.

"Why are we caring about whether the frat house is fit for living? It's been on that borderline for years," Danny intones. Kirsch leans closer to Danny.

"It's probably no big deal or anything but LaFontaine thinks we should move all our Dragoon stuff outta there because, I don't know, I guess the Inspector could be like a spy? I mean, it's pretty clear that somebody's not super happy about students asking too many questions, but..." Laura fails at seeming in control. Danny puts a hand to her forehead.

"Trouble in paradise?" Even Carmilla's interest is piqued.

"We're about to be busted at the Zeta House. Kirsch, get Zane and go help LaFontaine and Laura."

"Yes! Wait, how?" Kirsch is amped up but confused, which is usual.

"A distraction or something, have a brawl in the front yard, I don't care. Carmilla and I are gonna find the tunnel." Danny shoots a serious glance at Carmilla, who nods imperceptibly and doesn’t disagree.

~~~~ 

 

Laura snaps shut her phone with her lip between her teeth. She tries a small smile at Perry leaning in close to her in this abandoned stairwell corner, but it comes out more like a grimace. 

"Thank you for this, Perr, we owe you one." Perry leans back and twitches her head a little, just enough to toss her curls back behind her shoulder. "I may be bound by obligation, but I'm not gonna just leave my best friends out in the cold. I just hope it's enough..." And Laura sees a sadness in Perry's frown lines. 

Laura bites her lip again before speaking and reaching a hand to Perry's arm. "I don't want to overstep or anything, but it's not too hard to see how much you care for each other. I just think that LaFontaine is... they're very driven, you know? And I know they don't talk about it, but I think the sacrifice really scared them. LaF just needs something to focus on..." Perry closes her eyes and sighs, but gives a smile of recognition, and Laura feels relief from where her hand has pinched Perry's jumper between her palm and thumb. Perry puts her fingers to her temples and shades her eyes, "I know, I really do. It's just... difficult because the sacrifice... it scared me too. But the only thing I can focus on is how we're doing something that could really draw some unwanted attention... but I know what Susan - LaFontaine - is doing is... right."

 Laura feels her heart ache, so she rubs her hand up and down Perry's arm, trying to force blood to move through both their bodies. "We're gonna get through this together. And thanks to you, we've got an early warning system in case trouble comes 'Down From The Mountain.' " 

Perry nods and breathes out a hefty sigh again. "You've got until 3 p.m. to sort everything out on your end - I can keep the Superintendent busy with the lectures we're attending today, but he's a smart man. He sent that Inspector out expecting results, he won't be delayed for long." 

"Right, I'm on it. I'll let you know when we're in the clear. Thanks again Perry, you're a life saver!" And Laura is off dashing through the halls. 

Perry steels herself with another deep breath. "For LaFontaine. For Everyone." She smoothes out her sweater and crinkles her eyebrows, then steps with purpose towards the staircase.

 

 ~~~~  

 

Danny's lost reception by now, and with it, the updates from Kirsch about the situation at the Zeta house. Carmilla is cranky about this day trip, wrapped up in a maroon scarf, probably Laura's. She complains of snow soaking through her boots for about half a mile. But with the crisp fresh air, and the crunch of icy snowfall, Danny starts to feel content, and Carmilla's grumbling doesn't annoy her as much. Reminded of her months spent in the woods, learning from the higher Sisters and training her instincts, Danny feels the little thrill of the hunt thrum just under her skin.  

Checking her compass strapped to her Hunter's belt, Danny walks a little faster ahead, her mouth dipping open to mirror the rocky maw of a cave that appears around the bend of a large old growth tree. "Found it," she says triumphantly, but as Carmilla rounds the bend, a frightening creaking sound erupts from within the tunnel, followed by a loud crack, and from the darkness of the cave something hurtles towards them - before Danny can react she is pushed into the snow and hears Carmilla grunt loudly somewhere behind her. Brushing snow from her face, Danny looks back at Carmilla. 

"Oh fffuuck," Carmilla groans, seemingly mildly inconvenienced by the large something that has impaled her upon the face of the old growth. Carmilla struggles to push free by gripping the arched roots of the tree. With red blood flowing down her front to color the white snow, it resembles a sacrificial altar. 

"Oh my god - Are you dying?" 

"You keep underestimating the whole 'wretched immortal soul' thing," Carmilla drawls, resting against the tree for a second.

 "It looks like you've been split in two!" Blood drips from Carmilla's lips, seeping through her already darkly stained shirt, and she looks a grisly mess."We haven't even set foot in the tunnel yet and one of us is already bleeding. I thought it'd take at least another hour in, and that it'd be from me giving you a bloody nose for all that complaining." 

"Shut your big trap and give me a damn hand here. It's -" Carmilla jerks uselessly against the tree again, "- stuck."  

Danny takes a moment to inspect Carmilla's gaping hole of a stomach, out of which protrudes a wide-edged metal something. "It looks rusted. Can vampires get tetanus?" 

 "Oh for fuck's sake - Shut up and come here - no, _here -_ ok grab it, and pull." 

"Everything's slippery - "

 "No shit, just keep -" Danny loses her grip and falls to the snow " - ugh, c'mon get up. Use those giant hands of yours and get this outta me!" 

"The more you talk the more I lose interest in helping you," Danny says with a hand on her knee to help her rise from the snow. It leaves behind a bloody stain. 

"You wanna be the one to explain to Laura why you left me impaled on a tree in the middle of the woods?"

 Danny sighs and readjusts her grip. "Don't be stupid. I wouldn't leave you here." 

Carmilla's jaw tightens. She braces her foot against Danny's hip, pushing herself into the tree while Danny pulls out. As it slides slowly, Danny can see the object narrows toward the tip - it's a huge metal stake, and it definitely would have vaporized Carmilla if it had landed just a few inches higher. The lithe woman hisses through her teeth, her fangs out and bloody as another dribble falls from her chin. Danny finally notices the acrid smell of burning flesh - the stake is smoking at the edges and charring Carmilla from the inside-out. 

"Oh gross," Danny grunts and throws her weight backward, and the stake is released. Carmilla sinks down the tree, coughing up spots of blood. Danny throws the bloody stake down and wipes her hands in the snow, "So the tunnel has traps. Good to know. Are you sure you're ok? What's with the burning?" 

"I've got a mild silver allergy. Problem solved, let's move on." Carmilla stands with a handful of snow and wipes the small trails of blood from her chin and neck. 

"You look disgusting." 

"Same to you, Samwise. Off to Mordor, now," Carmilla shoos Danny ahead of her, but Danny stops. "We can turn back, get you patched up - " but Carmilla is already passing her and under the shadow of the tunnel mouth. "Let's go." 

Danny pulls her phone out from her pocket, snapping a picture of the rough tunnel entrance, before hiking her pack higher on her shoulder, and following Carmilla into the dark opening. The stone looks light-gray because of the snow reflection, but as they get deeper, the rock loses its jagged, rough appearance at the entrance, and transforms into a smooth and shiny-looking surface.The tunnel is wide, but short for Danny's stature. Along the route are large discolorations, sections more or less shiny than the surrounding areas.

Danny walks up close to a particularly large patch. "I'll get the slime sample for LaFontaine." She shines her flashlight further into the tunnel. "And maybe take a few more along the way. Hopefully this stuff hasn't gone kaput somewhere in the middle and we're not just walking into a dead end."

"Or another trap."

Carmilla has removed her scarf-hood, so now the ends of it waft in front of her torso, and when the maroon fiber catches the light of Danny's flashlight, it blends in darkly with her stained shirt, wet with blood.

 

~~~

 

 LaFontaine looks up with wide eyes at the knock that echoes from the front door, down the hall, and into the side storage room. Quickly clambering over some boxes, they peer out the window, and can just make out the gray coat and hat of someone who looks very Inspector-like. "Oh crap," they mutter.

"Hello!" Kirsch's cheery voice is heard from the entranceway, and LaF can't hear what the Inspector is saying, but just at that moment, Zane's blonde head pops in front of the window, tapping, "Quick, lemme in!"

"You hid everything already?" LaFontaine questions while stepping back and nearly falling over a stack of magazines.

"I threw it all in a bush around the back of the house, so yes. Is there anything else?"

Choosing to refrain from a reprimand and focus on the task at hand, LaFontaine looks around. "Nothing that we can move. I can't disconnect the computer without disrupting J.P.'s Ethernet hitch. We've gotta hide it somehow, and hope the Inspector just doesn't wanna come in this room."

Zane pauses for a second and scratches the stubble on his chin. "I have an idea, I'll be right back - "

"Wha - hey! Someone has to help me move some of this crap!" LaFontaine whisper-yells as Zane disappears from the room. They huff angrily, and try tugging a file cabinet closer to the doorway.

Kirsch's voice is louder this time, "So! We'll start upstairs, right? You'll probably wanna check out our kickass hottub."

"That sounds problematic. No, no, I'm just here to inspect the foundation, the first floor will do. Seeing as this was a last-minute call, I'd rather get the job done as quick and painless as possible, so... If you could just... maybe step to the side a little... and let me get to work - " LaF imagines this guy wears glasses that don't quite fit the frame of his face.

Kirsch continues to physically block the hallway while LaFontaine tries to frantically look for a place to hide, when suddenly, boot stomping and the worrisome timber of Laura's Angry Voice makes an entrance.

"Don't you _dare_ think I'd let you get away with this, you- erh, -you!"

Kirsch's voice sounds mercilessly confused. "Huh?"

"You break up with my best friend, via _text message? And after all those essays she let you copy??"_

"Woah, what? Who's best friend?" - "Excuse me, is that an allegation of plagiarism?"

As Laura begins what LaFontaine overhears is a fairly complex but totally improvised tirade, they continue to move things to block the view of the computer from the doorway. The room is distractingly disordered, but it could be so much more obstructive.

The argument is now revolving around something about a frisbee and a lost bra. The Inspector can't get a word in edgewise. Zane vaults face first into the room from the window, freaking LaFontaine out momentarily.

"I got it, quick, help me move this to the front - " Zane says as he squats down behind the white freezer chest. It's empty and isn’t terribly heavy, but LaFontaine has to work quickly to move things out of it's way as it scrapes along the wood floor.

"I have to say again, this is none of my concern, please just let me do my job and I'll leave, and you may solve your disagreement! Why must all university students be so tiresome to deal with!?"

"Because some of us are still _children,"_ Laura bites.

Zane throws his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the window, and LaFontaine nods dutifully, hops nimbly over the freezer, ducks under a hanging jersey uniform, and dives out the open window to the snow. Zane sits casually on the edge of the freezer, facing the door. LaFontaine reaches the bushes and turns just in time to see Zane toss something small and smoking out the window.

"You're from the school, right? You need to punish this guy, suspend him or something! We demand retribution, _and an apology!"_

 "You'll have neither, now get out of the Zeta Sanctum Sanctorum, girl-I've-never-met-before!"

"I need to get to work, I really _don't care about any of this - "_

"I swear I will have justice!" The sounds of a minor scuffle bounce off the hallway walls, and LaFontaine imagines that Kirsch is holding a feisty Laura at one-arm's-length away.

"You need to contact Campus Security, this is not my problem."

 "Hold on, we don't need to get those guys involved - listen, Inspector Dude, I swear I don't know what this crazy bitch is talking about!"

The scuffling stops. Now, there is silence. The emptiness of sound reaches LaFontaine all the way behind the bush with a bunch of books and maps scattered around it - "Uh oh."

It comes with a bang that sounds like a body being knocked into a wall. Kirsch's yelp supports this theory.

"Don't you _ever_ say that! How could you, Kirsch?!"

"Ah-ow, I'm sorry, wait I'm confused, please, please don't hit me again!"

The Inspector quickly routes around Kirsch and runs into the storage room, but stops immediately in the one meter wide space he has left to move into it.

"Oh! My. Excuse me, " Lafontaine can see him nervously run his hand over the back of his head through the window - "I'm supposed to inspect the floor and walls of this room for structural damage..."

"Cool, cool. Do you know parkour, buddy? We've been using the storage as obstacles, " Zane opens his hands wide. "You could maybe make your way to the walls, but getting back could be tricky. Tic-tac seems to work well."

From below the window, LaFontaine notices the small plume of white smoke rising. Laura and Kirsch (with a swelling bruise over his eye) appear behind the Inspector, who is making an uncomely face. "Oh my god," Laura says, covering her nose with her hands, "What is that?"

Zane lifts his shirt to cover his face, "Oh... that might be the leftovers from the goat sacrifice." He pats the freezer he's sitting on, "I think it's broken."

"Oh no, not again. I need to leave, it's disgusting - Move, move!" the Inspector nearly falls over in his haste.

Laura pinches her nose and turns back to Zane, "Wha dib you _do_?"

Zane splays his hands out and his shirt almost slips off the edge of his nose, " _What I had to."_

~~~~

 

"It smells disgusting in here."

"I'm already mentally prepared to encounter something that has curled up and died, but I think you're overreacting. It's not that bad, Little Dandelion. "

"I've got heightened senses and I'm telling you - it's rank... In an attempt to distract myself, tell me, have you ever tasted dandelion wine?"

"Can't say I have. Is it good?"

"Dreadful. Peasants' Drink. Leaves a reminder on the tongue for hours. As will the scent of this tunnel, probably, stay with me for several lifetimes."

"Well, nice try at divertissement, anyway."

Danny stops here and opens up another plastic baggie to get a sample of tunnel sludge for LaFontaine. The ground is also moist, muddy, but the air is dry, and weirdly bitter. The tunnel curves occasionally but has mostly maintained a direct trajectory to what Danny assumes is the closest access to the valley, and the mysterious village that may or may not still exist.

Danny tries her hand at distraction. "So a family vacation, huh? Whereabouts?"

Carmilla takes a moment to answer. "After several decades of dutiful monster baby-sitting, Maman complained of being overworked. So she took us, William and I, out of Styria and down the coast of what is today Croatia."

"Was it as nice as all the pictures make it seem?"

"Even back in 1870, Omiš was a city that could make one believe in the existence of God... if you enjoy things like sunshine and fish frys. But the evenings were nice, the lantern lights reflected in the sea could be attractively tranquil; there were less people."

"Selective with your company, are you?"

"Clearly I'm not," Carmilla gestures between them. "Anyway, Mother had William running all over the city for her, which freed me up, so I was content to spend the days in caves along the coast and the nights... well... I was young, and in a time before electricity. I found ways to entertain myself."

"Cave-dwelling, nice. It fits your persona."

"Minus the fish smell, I remind you."

"Oh, of course."

They continue walking into the dark. Danny does admit to herself that the onion smell is getting worse, and keeps her eyes sharp. But she notices Carmilla seems to be in contemplation beside her. When she speaks again, its with an air of hesitation.

"I couldn't tell you truthfully why Maman brought us down there.. She had the power to control the world, I might have assumed she just wanted to see every corner of it, like we had in the beginning. But the longer we stayed, the more... It seemed strange, I guess. And in the weeks before our departure, the people seemed... strange. We had been discovered, or at least suspected, and yet no one dared challenge us. But I ignored the suspicion, like I always did. The rather nasty looks I received turned me off of Dalmatia for the next few centuries, anyway."

"You think she made some enemies down there?"

"Oh I know that. It's difficult for someone with that much power to avoid causing a disturbance. I just can't say anything to what it might have meant."

They walk in silence for ten paces, before Danny brings up a somewhat repressed memory, adding its chill to the air around them in the oppressive tunnel.

"My appointment to Vice President, ending of last year - she was there. She gave out the fibulae." Danny feels her skin tingle, from a cold that comes from deep within her marrow. The Hall of Artemis was blazing with firelight and the reflections of silver and bronze and gold - but Danny felt like a icy cloud was hovering over the whole room, as the Dean stood tall and mighty in the center, her full attention on the newly-chosen VP of the Summer Society, and in her hands a very sharp-looking and responsibility-laden brooch (beautifully simple, reminiscent of the hunt and solidarity, and with a cool little pointy 'VP' welded on top).

The dapperly-dressed and powerfully beautiful woman leaned in close, pinned the decorative broach to her golden sash, and said in a very domineering but soft voice that Danny thinks only she could hear: "The Summer Society is an old and noble institution. You've got a myriad of secrets and Sisters to protect now... We on the Council hope you'll make Silas proud."

It sent shivers down her spine from where the brooch snagged on her coat and, somehow, through layers of clothing, scratched very lightly the skin of Danny's chest.

 

"... She's a terrible woman," Danny offers to the dark.

"She's my mother," Carmilla replies. "...And yes, she absolutely is..."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *i was late and im sorry but I had Things, and Stuff, and honestly I just need more dedication and discipline and I apologize for that, WORKING ON IT* 
> 
> Translations: Fövaran -bavarian dialect that means Willow tree.
> 
> Headcannon (free!): Kirsch is a history major, because things make sense to him when they're lined up and in order, and the relationships between cause and effect (or affect) interest him. Sadly he still needs tutoring in English Lit (among many other things) from Danny, but now its just another excuse to hang out.


	7. Still the Tunnel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirsch learns his lesson after getting hit in the face, more Danny/Carmilla thoughts and feelings and tunnel traps, some minimal Inspector backstory, and the Superintendent seems pretty cool.  
> ~4700 words.

~~~~

 

Kirsch is holding a bag of peas to his eye in the kitchen. Laura still hasn't spoken to him. The Inspector has removed his tie and is wearing it wrapped around his mouth and nose as a safeguard. An acrid, decaying smell still lingers on the first floor of the Zeta House.

"Well," the Inspector mumbles behind his facemask, "there's only so much I can do given these... circumstances. And apparently we are in need of an authority figure better versed in student conduct and counseling - "

"Sooooo, you're leaving right?" Zane pushes off from the doorframe he was leaning against, and comes to lean on the kitchen counter instead. "It's kinda a full house today. And given the throwdown we just witnessed, I'd bet the Zeta house is fit to stand another few years, right?"

"Preliminarily, I can't find any structural damage that could be relevant to the recent seismic activity, and quite frankly I'm lead to believe that I went through this wholly vexing ordeal for nothing. Today was meant to be the first day of my vacation, and now I wish for nothing more than to take my leave of you - people." The inspector avoids eye contact with anyone of them, and looks down at his fingers splayed on the table, pointing referentially in Laura's direction. "But lastly, I have to ask... young miss? Do you need me to do anything for you? Someone I should call?"

Laura, her stature short but her crossed-arm sangfroid grandiose, stares at him with equanimity. "No, thank you. I can handle it myself." He seems relieved.

"Well then, " the Inspector, who didn't take off his coat the entire time he was in the house, shuts some files in his briefcase and clutches it to his chest, "Goodbye forever, I hope."

All three occupants of the kitchen visibly sink with the shut of the front door.

"Sooo," Kirsch mumbles softly. "Mission accomplished?"

Laura shakes her head, "We still have to help LaFontaine move everything back inside." She stands tall in front of him, and points to his eye. "I apologize for hitting you, but I hope you're gonna let that lesson sink in, Kirsch."

"Something's definitely sunk, I can feel it. And I'm sorry, Laura. I got carried away, I blew it. And I'm not as good an actor as Zane."

Zane throws up his hands. "All I did was let off a stink bomb - and know better than to call an angry woman the 'B word'. "

At that moment, LaFontaine taps hard at a frosty window over the kitchen sink. "Was anybody gonna tell me when he left? I'm freezing my fringe off out here!"

 

~~~~

 

"The smell is getting worse," comes the muffled groan from Carmilla's side of the tunnel.

"Do you only quote dead philosophers and complain? Is that what you do?"

"Complaining about it makes it less annoying - but everything's still terrible and I hate it."

"Maybe we should just be grateful that this particular vampire ward is a weird onion-y smell instead of a large metal stake hurtling out of the darkness, hmm?"

"I'm not saying it's impaling me in the stomach, but it _is_ making me want to retch out my insides. There's a reason you stuff the bitterest herb in the maw of the undead, and _then_ behead it - For that to be the last thing they taste? Definitely not coming back."

"That's grim. Is that why you're so surly all the time?"

"My disposition is the kind of ennui that comes from having too much time on one's hands. " Carmilla sounds smoothly blithe in the dark, but Danny's watching her more closely now, and she picks up the hint of a fang that peeks out. Her pace has slowed somewhat as well.

They walk in silence for a few more minutes, before Danny is compelled to share something a little more personal. The engulfing darkness that threatens just beyond the bouncing beam of Danny's flashlight seems welcoming of secrets.

"Sometimes I think I'm too much of a team mom."

"I'm not familiar with this reference," Carmilla sounds bored.

"It's like... out of all of my friends, I find myself spending a lot of time wondering about their well-being. Especially the Sisters, but that's kinda my job anyway."

"So, what's the problem, Himalaya?"

"I'm just saying that sometimes it feels like I try to be everyone's mom, make sure they're happy and content; safe. It's just difficult given the circumstances, and I feel like I waste a lot of time worrying. But then I feel bad about not worrying."

"This sounds foolish."

"It is! It makes me feel so outta control sometimes, I'm sure I come off as overbearing. In fact, I know I do."

 

Carmilla is quiet for a beat, and Danny checks her corner: yes, one eyebrow is raised.

"This is how you defend your tendency to be a control freak?"

Danny hurries her pace a little, moving ahead of Carmilla. "Don't mislabel me. I'm just trying to explain how I... how I think and the way I feel. I'm just... really sensitive to other people, I guess, especially when they're hurting and it... sometimes it makes me overreact, try to protect them from things that could hurt them."

"Hmm... So you're telling me what happened between you and Laura was just, miscommunication?"

Danny cringes in the dark, but nods. "Basically... The feelings were there, I just messed up in how I expressed myself."

"So it took you this long for an epiphany? I could have told you that ages ago."

"Of course not. And we hated each other ages ago, I doubt you would have helped me figure out my deal."

"Oh, I would have _reveled_ in telling you exactly what your damage was, but I wouldn't say I hated you."

"Couldn't say the same, honestly." Danny returns quickly, but feels a little off-balance because this sounds very much like sincerity, which is weird coming from Carmilla.

"I had an _extreme aversion_ to you being in my presence, but it wasn't something that consumed my entire being."

"Oh. Well, thanks, I guess." Danny slows her pace a little and they walk evenly together. "You know, I think this is the most civil a conversation we've ever had."

"Do _not_ start kidnapping me on hikes just to talk to me. I may not hate you, but I _despise_ the things you enjoy, like walking and trail mix and those god awful records in your room - what even _is Modest Mouse?"_

"Ohhhkay, you can sto - ahHHP - ! "

It's because Danny is paying too much attention to the low ceiling  and Carmilla's lightened tone that she falls into a small depression, that crumbles under her weight and drops into a hole several feet deep - Danny's flashlight dangles from the strap around her wrist, and it illuminates the multitude of sharp spikes embedded into the ground below - another ancient trap.

Carmilla has grabbed her sleeve in a strong grasp, but she can't seem to pull Danny out, and Danny has to struggle for a moment to dig her feet into the side of the pit. Climbing out and huffing hard from adrenaline, Danny looks Carmilla over.

"You all right," Carmilla asks obligingly, but Danny shoos it away. "What's going on with you?"

"I'm fine." Carmilla huffs, pushing herself against the wall of the tunnel.

"Doesn't seem like it. Stop lying to me."

Carmilla leans against the wall as she rises, "I just need to get this stupid mission done so I can go back and _eat,_ _and then_ _I'll be fine_." She pushes off roughly and continues into the dark ahead. Danny feels her ire rise but focuses instead on marking the trap on the small map she's been writing on her phone. She trots after Carmilla gingerly on her ankle, still feeling a bit of the shock from the fall.

"Stupid, stubborn vampire," Danny whispers.

"I heard that."

"Good!"

 

~~~~

 

"It escapes me why I keep risking life and limb for you, " Carmilla says while perched above the kitchen sink, replacing a flicking fairy light.

"The Chore Wheel Debate aside, you've admitted several times already that it's because you love me. " Laura states matter-of-factly while she folds her laundry.

Carmilla agrees placidly, "Obviously yes, to some extent. There." Carmilla jumps down nimbly, floats to the switchboard, and the glittering hum of the fairy lights replaces the ceiling bulb.

"That'll be 100 Euro, Ma'am," suddenly Carmilla is at Laura's side, playing with her hair.

"That's just outrageous and I will fight you forever regarding it," Laura turns briskly around to face her, dropping her shirt with disgruntlement but her eyes wandering with indulgence.

Carmilla closes the distance and has Laura in her arms, "One of us is going to win that argument sooner than the other. "

Laura makes a noise at the back of her throat, pouts and shrugs her shoulders defensively. It's awkward given their tight quarters. Carmilla lets go.

She has an idea of what's happening. Laura's a smart girl.

Laura spins to sit on the edge of her bed, one leg tucked beneath her, "So..."

"You wanna talk about it." Carmilla tells her, and Laura shrugs again.

"I just thought I'd bring the subject up, in case there's anything I should know. We're sailing uncharted territory here - I've never been with a vampire before, and how many journalism undergrads have you dated prior?"

"You're the first, and the only one I've jumped a cliff for."

Carmilla sits opposite Laura, reaches forward to put her hands on both Laura's knees, "Cupcake, our relationship is in its infancy - talking about forever can wait."

"I agree, and we don't need to go into a super deep discussion on it just yet...But ever since the Pit, it's something I think about sometimes, and I want your opinion on it. I trust you."

Carmilla drops the brick she was just about to set in her wall. Her mouth feels dry. She has to stand, to stretch. She aches in hollow places and it disquiets her that Laura has thought about death, sometimes. Laura is so far removed from death that even Carmilla feels something alive again when she's close.

"I think about your mortality a lot," she finally says, but Laura looks patient. "I think about it a lot, and it's something we could discuss... but right now is not the time." Carmilla feels vulnerability as palpable as raindrops on her skin. "Precious moments ought to be savored, and I'd rather enjoy them now than return to my traditions of sorrow and loneliness." Carmilla says all this with her arms uncrossed but hands wound together in front of her, a visible paradox of internal conflict. She tries to massage the feeling out of her palms.

"I'm weirded out by how forthcoming you're being," Laura frowns, "But I appreciate it." Carmilla sighs through her laugh when she shakes her head, once, before looking back to Laura's eyes.

"You said you trusted me, and I want to deserve it. I've had a lot of time to think about love, and all it's," Carmilla's hand circles through the air between them, sifting for words, "entanglements."

"Have you ever... turned someone? Before?"

Carmilla shakes her head softly, "I'm still quite young, and given than I was alone for seventy years, I just haven't... found the right one, you could say."

"Wow, yea, this does feel like a heavy conversation. " Laura puts her feet on the floor and presses into the mattress. "Ok. Let me just say this: I don't care about forever. I care about you, and this, right now," (Laura makes hand gestures between them, and Carmilla, not taking her eyes off Laura's face, grabs and holds onto her fingers), "and I think we are good together. I'm learning so much from you and I feel special, and safe, and that's all I really need right now."

Carmilla nods and pulls Laura to standing, "And you trust me."

"And I trust you."

Carmilla tries to focus on the lavender scent of Laura's body, the golden ochre of her hair in sunset, the small quirk in her lips when she thinks of something funny, just before she says it aloud, and the way it feels against Carmilla's mouth when she manages to swoop in before Laura can get it out. She tries to focus on those things, rather than the ravaging headache echoing through this tunnel, and instead of the bitingly bitter stench of vampiric wards. She tries to hold the image of Laura, so naive yet brave, so driven and trusting, and it's better than paying attention to the ragged skin surrounding her stomach wound.

It's dark and the end cannot be seen. Carmilla and Danny keep walking.

 

~~~~

There can be a beauty in the quiet stillness of thick snowfall, blanketing the streets and sidewalks of Silas University. There's a crispness to the air that almost crackles in your ears. Colors seem brighter, contrasted with the deep abyssal white.

The Inspector sees none of it, trudging through heavy snowfall and cursing his lot.

"Absolutely atrocious...and inconceivable - !" he mumbles to himself, sick of the cold, sick of his briefcase, sick of the abnormal happenings at nearly all of his Silas University property house calls.

The Inspector was _supposed_ to be on his way to Bermuda this morning. He was _not_ supposed to be called in to work, _for anything,_ his wife had reminded him needlessly on his way out the door. "Not after the Zombie Choir Room!" She shouted at him, even though she had agreed they wouldn't talk about it ever again.

He is reminded to speak to the University about his contract, as he steps around a security telephone box, obnoxiously purple, and continues traveling along behind the Alchemy Building. It escapes him why the wacky scientists get a _whole building_ while any Architecture courses that are not medieval must share the lecture halls that double as campus bomb shelters. He's never understood this institution's priorities.

His disgruntled mental meanderings effectively distract from the otherwise brightly noticeable purplish and blue hues that color the under-roof of the Alchemy Club's laboratory above him. Shimmering like the reflection of an iridescent pool, the colors shift and change and add a comforting glow to the snow and concrete around the building.

The Inspector is still thinking about the harrowing examination of the Zombie Chorus Hall, and of his interrupted sabbatical, and all he really cares about now is delivering his report to the Superintendent, leaving this wretched place for his sunny vacation, and hoping that the next earthquake swallows Silas University whole, so he won't have to come back to work.

 

~~~~~

 

Carmilla is, rightfully so, not fond of tight, dark spaces. The tunnel is wide, but pitch black, and they've been walking in this dismal void for hours already. Carmilla's eyes can see without the aid of Danny's flashlight, but if it were to go out...

Feeling the muscles around her wound shift again, Carmilla slows her steps to hide the shiver that shakes her shoulders. Unbecoming as it would be to shed her top and properly wrap her stomach, Carmilla has instead been biting her cheek and pressing her arms around her middle, feeling the damp of her shirt. Vampiric constitution, as far as she can feel, has slowed the seepage of blood from her impalement, but her tired body is running out of energy.

Finally, Carmilla's eyes pick up the faintest hue of blue-white - the exit. Carmilla remarks so to Danny, and the tall woman's already long strides speed up a little. Not long, and they're walking out into the bright afternoon. Shielding their eyes from the drastic change in light, Danny lets out a loud and exhausted  "Woooooooooo!" It echoes in the stillness of the ridge they stand upon.

In the distance are the small smoke stacks and burning fires of a homey little village in the valley. "I guess the village is still here after all. Maybe we can just ask if they know anything about the tunnel."

"We searched the tunnel, discovered it's relatively safe as long as you're not me, and we know exactly where it leads if we need to shuttle students through it. Can't we just go back now?"

"Probably not a good idea to send an entire stampede of scared and confused co-eds down into a tiny village. We should at least warn them that they might be receiving some uninvited guests." Danny gestures vaguely to the valley before un-shouldering her bag and swiping the final marks on the map.

"Better to ask forgiveness than permission, I always say."

"You'd never ask for either. I want to be able to tell people we have a plan if things start looking south at Silas."

Things are looking south for Carmilla too, who has been leaning heavily against the tunnel entrance since they exited. Danny glances over her shoulder at Carmilla, then sighs heavily.

"You need blood, right?" Danny asks towards the direction of the village.

"..'m fine."

Danny spins around, "No you're not, and it's your own fault that you didn't think of packing a _snack_ , so we've got this one option left. Now, take some of my blood and stop being so stupidly stubborn, it's annoying."

"Whatever, you're annoying," Carmilla's response is muffled by the back of her hand wiping over her mouth. Danny approaches with her arm outstretched.

"Can you just suck on this so we can get moving, Count? I promise I won't punch you in face."

"No."

"You're being awfully difficult about this."

Carmilla struggles to hold herself upright, "I'm only being _difficult_ because I've already bitten Laura and biting you isn't - it's not what - ugggh! Look, it's a weird old vampire subculture thing -

"Oh is it? Or is it just some weird old Carmilla thing?" Carmilla looks away but Danny continues and starts rolling up her sleeve, "I'm not making it a weird thing, so neither should you." Carmilla just stares at Danny's wrist for a moment, before Danny shakes it in front of her.  

"Not here," Carmilla hugs herself and nods to an oversized tree trunk. "The tunnel may still be protected, let's not tempt it into trying to kill me again." Carmilla squats down between two ridges of cold Stryian oak, her eyes watching Danny lowering her knees into the snow. One of them still has the faded red-brown mark of blood. Carmilla's fangs are visible now but her jaw is still tight.

"Can you... flex your arm a few times, please," Carmilla says in a small voice. "The cold..."

"Right, right... better?"

Carmilla says nothing but pulls her scarf down from around her neck, laying it in her lap. She gently grabs Danny's wrist and brings it to her lips. With a last look at Danny, she uses just the tip of one of her fangs to slice a connection to Danny's vein.

Carmilla can feel Danny turn to look away, registering the timid pull away from her as the small trickle of blood starts to flow into Carmilla's mouth. Instantly, Carmilla feels her body warm like a furnace. She digs deeper into Danny's wrist, and both fangs puncture, and Danny's hand clenches for just a moment before it releases with an ease that floats her fingers to briefly touch Carmilla's cheek. Her lips tingle against Danny's skin, her stomach un-does its knots, and she can almost hear her muscles stitching themselves back together. The smell of firewood drifting up from the village mingles with the earth-y scent of Danny's skin, and it reminds Carmilla of sandalwood trees and golden leaf litter. Carmilla stops the flow with a dedicated press of her tongue, and she sighs through her nose reveling in the afterglow, if somewhat dimmed.

Lifting from Danny's wrist, Carmilla holds pressure to it, but her words just coast over Danny, who's never looked so relaxed in front of Carmilla.

"Hmm?"

"Bandages. You have a first aid kit, right?"

"Oh yea, sure. Huh. That's it?"

"That's it," Carmilla nods as she unravels gauze. "You should eat something."

"I know how this works, I've donated blood before. But be honest with me - is it enough until we get back?"

"I'm already healing, " Carmilla lifts her shirt up in a bored manner. The hole is gone, but her skin is very flush towards the center of her gut.

"Well, considering how you were nearly disemboweled, that's not as gross as I thought it would be."

"Well thank goodness for that," Carmilla slants at Danny.

"It seems no matter what sort of disaster I pull you out of, all you need is a little sip of blood, and everything's copasetic."

"And it seems you're not as useless as you look."

"Anything to keep you from passing out." Danny chews into a trailmix bar, "I know already how deceptively heavy you are, so this works out better for the both of us."

They sit for a moment in lap-gazing and silence. Danny's fingers absentmindedly grip and slide over the tree bark she sits upon. Carmilla savors the whole-body numb that finally dulls her headache and releases her stomach from pain.

Danny gently tugs her coat sleeve back down over her bandaged wrist, then stands and holds a hand out to Carmilla, who gives her a little eyebrow raise, but accepts the hand anyway. Together they stand looking out over the small valley, counting the small houses and open but barren fields.

"You would think that with a small village so near to a university, they might open up to visitors, make it something of a destination attraction, maybe get some extra revenue for the residents."

"No. College kids and tourists are noisy and messy and infantile.  This place is blessed without them."

"Ok, thanks for the useless update on how you hate everybody everywhere. So the plan is I'll explain about the emergency transit system, and you're just gonna sit pretty and not talk. Sound good?"

 

~~~~

 

Perry sighs with relief at the text message she just received from LaFontaine, informing her of the all-clear at the Zeta House. The message ends with the capital letters TY and a smiley face emoticon, to which Perry replies with a mirrored smiley face.

"Here you are, Lola: Peppermint tea a bit more to your liking, " the Superintendent smiles at her, and Perry flinches to stuff her phone in her pocket and accept the paper cup. The Super keeps smiling behind the coffee cup that steams his glasses, contrasting with his dark skin. He turns to lead them both out of the campus market, "Mmm. I'm glad we made this choice instead of the tea in my office - I need a sweet pick-me-up after all those lectures. And thank you again, Lola, for your patience in attending them all with me."

"It was an honor, sir, to share with you some of the work that the students in my field have been achieving. I hope this will aid our department in its request for a little more funding."

The Superintendent laughs heartily, "I daresay you'd make a fine university Council member, Ms. Perry, given your strong business-like approach to education."

"I'm concerned with the potential of our research, Superintendent, not the money." Perry nods her head to the side, "But money helps."

"Aye, so it does. I'll take your recommendations to heart, don't you worry. I was quite genuinely impressed by the lecture on inter-communal peace studies centering on food sharing - it's a concept that's been around for centuries, yet hasn't quite taken hold as other methods of conflict resolution. It's quite a peaceful solution that makes a lot of sense to me."

"Same here, sir."

"Mr. Superintendent, sir!" calls a man trudging toward them through the snow. His tie is askew on his neck and he's overall demeanor suggests discordance.

"Oh, yes, hello. Lola, this is the Inspector that I mentioned earlier - and how was the survey Mr. - "

"Sir, the University has a lot of things to worry about regarding the Fraternity on this campus, but the structural integrity of the building is not one of them. Before I leave for my much-needed sabbatical, I have to ask, are you aware of their goat sacrifice situation?"

"I - I have to admit I haven't heard - "

"Sir, it's disgusting and I don't know why we keep letting it happen, because that smell lingers. And while I am a contactor to the University, it's not my job to solve domestic arguments for your students."

"I didn't ask you to - "

"It doesn't matter anymore, sir! This envelope holds my last report, written while trying to argue with my wife to stop being mad at me, and once you take it," (he shoves the it into the Superintendent's hand), "for the next two weeks Silas University is _not_ my problem. Goodbye, sir."

The Superintendent and Perry look on bemusedly as the newly vacationing Inspector struggles through shin-high snow instead of continuing along the same path as them.

"I hope he's all right," Perry says into her tea.

The Superintendent waves his hand and continues walking toward the Administration building, "He's been a bit overworked, I will admit. But at least the report should keep the Admin hounds off my heels for a few days, perhaps." He takes a sip of his coffee and his sigh billows out in a large cloud, "They've been on the warpath, you know; claiming security breaches perpetrated by students, and everything regarding this Lustig business... but you already know a little something about that, don't you, Lola?"

"Sir?" Perry nervously fidgets with the strap of her bag and grips the cardboard sleeve on her cup tighter.

The Super walks up a flight of stairs and they walk along a windowed hallway, watching as students and faculty exit the building at sunset, going on with their normal domestic lives. Unawares of the lurking dangers all around them. The Superintendent suddenly stops walking at the corner, where they can see both sides of the hallway.

"Administration and I are concerned with a certain group of students, and I think you know the ones I mean. I don't have to remind you that at least one member of this group has recently lost two people very close to them."

Perry holds her tea between her palms, "We're managing, sir. I believe these things take time, to make adjustments."

"Of course, of course. But I wonder if the group's preoccupation with the Lustig incident, and the Zeta's interest in throwing a party in the Pit, does not suggest poor coping behaviors?" The Superintendent speaks softly, with his head tilted toward Perry, and it invites her trust.

"Sir, may I be frank?"

"I wish you would, Lola."

Perry sucks in a breath and whispers it conspiratorially to the Super, "If you already suspect my friends are involved, why have you not ordered their tribunals? Er, sir."

The Superintendent rocks backward and shakes his coffee cup, "Oh gracious, tribunals? I think that tradition's a little antiquated, don't you? And truthfully, Lola, I'm not convinced your friends have done anything wrong. They have, of course, breached several mandates upheld by Administration, but I've made my opinion of Administration quite clear to you, I believe."

"Yes, they are a very suspicious organization that no one's actually seen just walking around... But sir, one last thing. You've mentioned Administration is anxious regarding the Lustig Incident, and there's pressure on you to relieve it, yes?"

"Correct."

"Sir... it was the Dean who orchestrated and oversaw all the events that led up to that night. Wouldn't there be something of hers that might, shed some light on the situation?"

"....."

"...Sir?"

"Lola... I'm new here, and so my actions are being closely monitored." He turns to look out the window at the darkening skyline. "Do you know a way to get into the Dean's Office?"

With permission granted, Perry smiles. "I'm sure I can find someone to help us."

 


	8. The Plot Lines Intersect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmilla and Danny discover the dark secret of the quiet village in the valley, and LaFontaine, Perry and J.P. break into the Dean's office, unearthing more questions than answers.
> 
> This chapter: ~ 6500 words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to Anoice's album Into the Shadows for darkly cunning musical accompaniment.

~~~~

Contrary to the stillness of the woods outside of Silas, the journey from the tunnel's exit down to the small wintering village is noisy with the valley wind. It rushes through the trees, scratching and creaking the skeleton branches. Carmilla has wrapped her maroon scarf like a hood around her head again, and Danny occasionally has to pull her beanie down further over her ears and rub warmth back into her arms.

They happen upon an elderly woman crouched in the snow of a small graveyard on the outskirts of the village. She is startled by them, and despite Danny trying to pacify her over the bustling wind, she can't seem to understand, and keeps backing away. She puts the rows of small graves, marked by knee-high rough-hewn wooden crosses, between her and them. Her suspicious glare rests mostly on Carmilla, who seems unperturbed by this, until the old woman mutters something and then hisses at her. Carmilla's eyes narrow and she walks a brisker pace and wider arc around the woman.

"What language was that?" Danny asks when the woman is out of earshot.

"Gibberish? She looks crazy," Carmilla answers curtly. She tugs her scarf down from head so it drapes in front of her shirt.

"No kidding. Anyway. We should find whoever the leader of the village is, talk directly to them about the tunnel situation."

The path winds down the mountainside, sloping gradually then leveling out into wider fields, and soon the little houses are within sight. The sky is a hazy gray and casts a very sleepy hue. The village is sparsely populated, but there's a larger building near the center, where a few more people can be seen milling about. Danny guesses that it's something of a town hall, the large eaves of the roof drooping with the weight of snow. As they approach, villagers one by one come to a halt, whatever they are doing, and stare intrusively at them. One man has stopped in the middle of hoisting a barrel of something into the window above him, his arms shaking with the burden, but he doesn't take his eyes off the newcomers. Carmilla leads the way into the meeting hall, and asks in perfect German the way to the village leader, but there seems to be a slight language barrier, because everyone she approaches gives her a very strange look before pointing towards the back of the building.

"They really don't seem fond of visitors," Danny whispers.

"I told you they wouldn't," Carmilla says.

"Vhat you doing here?" comes a strong and accented voice from behind them. Spinning around, Danny takes a step backward while Carmilla's hand clenches into a strong fist. Danny regains herself and stands taller, "We need to speak with someone in charge. It's something of an emergency."

"Vhere you come from?" the man's voice is deeply German and distrusting.

"The mountain, " Carmilla states briskly before Danny can reply, and she slides her gaze to stare oddly at Carmilla.

The man, dressed in a heavy coat and fresh from the cold outside air, scrutinizes them, before lifting his chin to indicate the staircase behind them. "You speak to me."

At the top of the stairs is a small room, with two sturdy hand-carved chairs in front of a heavy oak desk. There is no fire in the hearth to the right, with the only heat coming from a few lanterns spaced about the room. The room smells darkly of animal skins and wood rot. At her side, Carmilla's face is relaxed, but her body moves tensely, not as cat-like as Danny has seen.

"Your village seems very... quaint." Danny offers politely, unable to shake off the intense looks she and Carmilla received on the way in.

"For generations zhis village stands alone." He is curt and tight-lipped, and his accent grumbles Austrian-tinted German low across the table. In clipped English, he asks, "You are Silas?"

"Yes, we're students there," Danny replies, straight-backed in the uncomfortable wooden chair.

"Silas is not velcome here. _You_ not velcome here."

Carmilla scoffs, "Does it look like I'm enjoying my stay? We're here about the tunnel, not honeymooning vacationers." Carmilla has her arms crossed and legs spread with an ankle resting on the opposite knee. Danny tries to telepathically tell her to knock it off and show some respect, but it doesn't work.

The man gets a cross look in his eye. "You know about zhe tunnel?"

"It's how we got here, numbskull."

"Carmilla!" Danny whispers/smacks her side. But Carmilla continues, "Your village isn't marked on any map and you have no accessible roads in winter. Like I said, this isn't a pleasure trip."

The man, who still hasn't given his name or title, shakes his head stubbornly. "Zhe tunnel is sealed. It is forbidden; you trespass. You vill leave."

"You haven't even heard us out - "

"I vill hear no more."

Danny feels her ire rise up the back of her neck, and tries to shake it loose, "But you don't know what's coming! This is about saving lives, everyone at Silas is in danger, we need your help!"

"Silas is only evil, darkness kommen zhat place. No help for you here, as no Salvation for Hell."

Carmilla lets her foot fall heavy to the floor as she leans forward, "Who shoved that stick up your butt, Cro-Magon? We're trying to help people, as much of an inconvenience as that is."

Finally, an emotion other than Stone Wall registers in the man's voice, "You know nothing, you ask my village to help Silas, it is insult. Unthinkable."

Carmilla remains silent and finds interest in the heavy glass window behind the man's fur ushanka-covered head. Danny sighs with difficulty, but leans back in her chair, opening her arms wide with carelessness. The sleeve of her coat catches on her bandaged wrist, so she scratches at it when she says, "Then have us understand. No one knows what happened to Fövaran Village in 1870, but apparently it was enough to make you guys fall off the map and despise outsiders. Tell us the truth, then we'll leave."

Carmilla's eyes slant to Danny, "That's not gonna solve our problem."

"We're getting no where just arguing about who knows best. Maybe we should try listening. It's a big part of negotiation." She turns back to the man, hunched over his desk like a weathered stone. "You welcome no visitors, yet we were invited inside rather than turned away. There must be something we can talk about. What did Silas University do to your village? To your family?"

The man sits back, ever scrutinizing the two of them. His gaze is hard when he looks at Carmilla, crossing her arms again and staring out the window. Danny feels something like her hackles rising when he tilts his heavy head at her, but she resists reacting visibly. His eyes settle on Danny's hands in her lap before he speaks.

"Fövaran is not zhe name of zhis village. Zhe Darkness devoured Fövaran. But Silas vouldn't say zhat..." His gaze marches quickly to Carmilla, "Hell holds many secrets."

Danny directs him back, "Those secrets are the reason we're here. Why do you keep equating the university with Hell?"

"Vhere else do demon and Vampyr call home? Zhe tunnel brought evil to devour us."

Carmilla sits up a little straighter, "Does the whole village know about the vampires at Silas?"

"Ve pass down knowledge of zhe fiend, zheir likeness and habits. Veaknesses - "

"The Darkness you mentioned, is that referencing a vampire attack? Is that what happened in 1870?" Danny interrupts.

The man tilts his head again, his gaze avoiding Danny's eyes but focusing more on her hands. His mouth moves little over his words, and his voice is like gravel, "An eruption on zhe mountain. Clouds dark as blackest ash - and no sun for five days." Here, the man takes his hands off the table and turns in his chair, and it scrapes loudly across the wooden floor. "Men come from zhe mountain, say zhey built escape route. But only death comes. "

"The Zetas, they built the tunnel as a rescue..."

"But not only zhey come through..." The man's voice almost growls.

Beside her, Carmilla finally seems affected by the atmosphere in the cramped room. Her body slumps a little, her eyes looking heavily to the floor. "Endless night, an unprotected village - It was a massacre. Without her around to control them, they must have gorged themselves." Carmilla's voice rumbles to escape her chest. The man slowly opens a drawer and pulls out a pouch of something. Danny catches Carmilla's eyes shift with hostility.

"Zhat cursed tunnel vas our damnation. Ve exist today only from zhe strength of our ancestors. Ve do not vait for another attack."

Carmilla sits forward at the edge of her seat, "We should go."

"No, we need to settle this. The University might need to evacuate through the Tunnel - "

The unnamed village leader stands finally, leaning across the table and staring Danny down, "You ignore our suffering! The tunnel vill be closed, permanently, und no one else goes through."

"Big Red, we really need to leave," Carmilla tries again, her eyes steady on the window, glowing orange in the sunset.

But Danny stands up too, "I understand you've got this justifiable grudge against Silas, but it was a hundred and forty-five years ago, and there are innocent people at risk, right now! You just need to let us pass!"

The man lunges forward and grabs Danny's hand that she just shook for emphasis. "You tell me vhat I need, but it is _you_ who needs! It is _her!_ " He pushes her sleeve back and the bandage on her wrist rips to hang off just by a strip of adhesive. The two small punctures above Danny's cold blue veins shine silver in the dim lantern light. The man growls, "You deceive! You have been marked, you are her servant! _You bring Vampyr to my village!_ "

And before either can protest, the man throws Danny back into her chair, makes two full strides across the room, and throws dust from the pouch into the fireplace - it erupts magnificently into bright red flames, and instantly Carmilla's fangs are out and she hisses, shielding herself from the fire.

Danny recovers, grabs her bag and moves back towards the door as the man rushes to his desk and extracts a large silver dagger, brandishing it toward them.

"No! We can't go that way!" Carmilla warns, suddenly blocking her path back to the staircase. "He's not the only one we've upset. There's a mob."

"What?!"

The man roars, inhuman and vicious, and lunges for them. Carmilla shoves Danny to the corner and shouts, "The window!" then expertly ducks under the man's strike, spins behind him, and pushes him heavily into the doorway. She smacks a fist into the back of his head for good measure, and his audible "oof!" gives them a few moments.

Danny can now see that the orange glow in the window is not from sunset, but from the tell-tale signs of pitchforks and fire, and wonders if she should stop finding it odd at how quickly mob mentality sets in around these parts. Carmilla pushes her out of the way again, and punches through the window, shattering large pieces of glass everywhere. "That damn hag," she curses, oblivious to the blood curling down her knuckles.

"What damn hag?" Danny asks as Carmilla ushers her up onto the sill and precariously out onto the snow-packed eave.

"The one from the woods. She knew I was a vampire. She must have spread the word."

"What?! How did she know?"

" _Vampyr!"_ comes the man at the window, struggling to fit his large mountain body through.

Danny slips and slides across the roof, turning the corner and looking for escape.  Carmilla is always one step behind. "Maybe the blood on my clothes, I don't know; she hissed _oumpir_ at me and had that look of hatred that only comes from the fear of a gruesome and bloody death." Seemingly to demonstrate, Carmilla viciously hisses, fangs out, at the crowd below them, stamping the roof and dislodging a hefty amount of snow to the ground.

The hag in question wails somewhere beneath them, and the mob gathers round the building, shouting vehemently violent offenses in German. The ground is snow-packed but still an uncomfortable distance below them, and there is another roof next to them, but too far to jump.

"You could have told me that maybe this wasn't a good idea," Danny hits Carmilla behind her suddenly. Carmilla brushes her hands away, "Excuse me, I distinctly remember trying to dissuade you from this fool's errand."

"That was before the old hag's warning - you never ignore a warning hag!"

Danny leans over to consider jumping again. The tips of a pitchfork reach just below the roof's edge and she recoils backwards. "Do you have anything resembling a plan?"

"Yes." Carmilla puts her hands on Danny's biceps, directing her back to the wall, then turns to face the roof across from them. "Run!"

Together they take one large step, and Carmilla leaps and holds Danny fast to her, and they make it, inconceivably, to the next roof over.

"Oh my god, that's terrifying, never do that," Danny falls and pushes Carmilla away from her, then continues a slippery run along the roof, opposite the mob's direction.

"The roof is the best place to be right now!" Carmilla scolds as Danny swings her legs over the roof ledge and turns onto her belly in the snow to lower down. Carmilla reaches her and holds onto her elbow as she lowers. The crowd is coming closer.

Dropping down to the snow, they run, the path ahead clear. "What did he mean, 'you are her servant?' What kinda bite did you give me?"

Carmilla groans but keeps pace, "It's nothing, it's an old thing, it doesn’t mean much anymore. The wrist is an area for marking... followers. I wouldn't have thought a village of humans would care so much."

"Woulda been nice to know once the hag thing came up," Danny chides, before gasping when a mother and daughter team of pitch-forkers appear suddenly ahead.

"So you're saying next time you'd prefer neck?" Carmilla turns sharply down a lane, and Danny skids in the snow to follow, but they are running out of covered space, and soon will be out in the open for the mob to clearly see.

"We can't keeping running like this," Danny huffs, her warm breath escaping in a cloud.

"Not like this, no," and Carmilla ducks behind a unhitched wagon buried under a snow blanket. Danny joins her, looking wary and unsure about this hiding place. She can see the mob's firelight tinting the snow orange in the oncoming evening glow.

"This is a terrible hiding place, Fangs."

But Carmilla doesn't retort, and a second later shoves her bloody shirt, maroon scarf and leather pants at Danny. "I like those, don't lose them," Carmilla warns in her underwear, and Danny can only blush.

The hag wails again, closer, and Danny peeks around the wagon to check their distance. They spot her, and several villagers start running straight for them.

"Oh shit, it's time to go - ! " but Carmilla is gone. Instead there is a huge black cat, huddled but too big to hide behind the wagon. "Holy crap," Danny has time to say, before the cat nuzzles Danny onto her neck, urging Danny to grip, clothes and all, in a straddle along her back, her shiny black fur coat cold with winter's air.

Five full strides in and the village is already falling away behind them.

 

~~~~

 

Thumping and melodic eurodance bounces off the dishes in dorm room 307's tiny kitchen nook, Kirsch and Zane huddled over a tablet, trying to make the perfect playlist. It's distracting, but not much can distract Laura from her near-nervous breakdown at the fact that it's a couple hours past dinnertime and Carmilla and Danny have not yet returned. Which is ok, it's whatever, it's not like Laura's their keeper or anything, but a phone call would have been nice.

"...Or like a bat signal in the sky, just - just _something._ " Laura sighs to the camera. She props her head on her hands and turns slightly to ask LaFontaine, sitting on her bed behind her, "They're all right, aren't they?"

"They're big kids, Frosh, they can handle themselves. All we can do is wait." LaFontaine replies distractedly. LaFontaine is texting someone intensely.

Laura groans, stands up, and starts pacing. Techno music backgrounds her movement.  "Orrr -  We can organize a search with the Zetas and Summer Sisters, or- or sneak into the Superintendent's office, maybe he has the keys to a helicopter we don't know about, or - or - or - Kirsch! Hey, you can't do that a little quieter, buddy??"

Kirsch slides his volume lower, and pouts a little, "I'm party planning. It's how I relieve stress."

"Danny and Carmilla are missing, and this is what you're doing? Planning a bonfire in the Pit where we almost faced our certain doom?"

Kirsch stands and replies strongly, "Well, yea. Duh. I'm a Zeta, and if I'm not actively protecting someone's honor, then I'm party planning. Or working out. Or video games."

He looks back down at the hand-scrawled map under Zane's hands, the layout of the Bonfire at the Pit. "But mostly I'm just _sick_ of looking at that stupid hole in the ground and thinking about all the bad stuff."

Zane nods his head solemnly, and Laura has to admit she loses some steam. Kirsch looks back to Laura with a sober expression, very uncommon to his usually bright face.

 "This party isn't for me, Laura."

Laura visibly deflates, and Zane reaches up to place his hand on Kirsch's elbow (and then stands up so he can reach Kirsch's shoulder). Kirsch mutes the music and screen locks the tablet in his hand.

Laura breathes into her hands before running the hair out of her eyes. "Sorry, Kirsch. I'm a little too... wound up, I guess."

 "Another great reason why we should throw a party, right?" Kirsch smiles. "But we'll plan it some place else, get out of your hair for the night. Sound good?"

Laura nods, "Yea, thanks Kirsch."

The boys leave with little waves, and then it's just LaFontaine and Laura in the small dorm room. Until two seconds later when the door opens again, and Perry steps in.

"LaFontaine, I need your help. For snooping purposes."

LaFontaine's face brightens immediately. "You've no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that."

"Snooping for what?" Laura asks.

Perry proclaims with her head high, "We're breaking into the Dean's office."

"YES!"

"Woah, what? Explain, please."

Perry comes further into the room, and sits next to LaFontaine with her ankles crossed and her hands in her lap. "The Superintendent agrees that we need to investigate whatever secrets the Dean's been hiding, in order to make better judgments regarding the safety of students and faculty."

"Well that's super unprecedented, given this school's authoritative record. But how're you gonna get in? I heard the Dean's office was sealed shut by magic or something," Laura says as she sits back down in her computer chair.

"Not magic. Alchemy. Which is why I came to see you," Perry turns toward LaFontaine, and her knee brushes their thigh. "I heard you've met with the Alchemy Department.  Think they've got something that can break into a sealed room?"

LaFontaine's eyebrows narrow in a mischievous smile, and they shake their phone lightly in their hand, "I think I know someone who can help."

"Excellent, " Perry smiles brightly. "Oh, and we'll be needing J.P. too. I'm sure there's all sorts of mysterious files hidden in the Dean's personal computer, and we need a fast researcher. Are you both free now?"

"Am I?! Are we!? Let's go!" LaFontaine jumps up and heads out the door without saying bye to Laura. Perry does it for them.

"Yea, bye. It's good to have you back in the loop, Perr," Laura smiles. Perry squeezes Laura's hand, before she too leaves, and Laura is left alone in her very empty dorm room.

Laura regards the camera again, her smile gone and her eyes filled with worry.

"Everyone's got something to keep focused on... I guess I should do some homework or something... I do have an exam in a few days - "

Danny slowly opens the door, looking disheveled, cold, and exhausted.

"Oh thank god - " Laura sighs/exclaims, immediately pulling Danny into the room and guiding her to Laura's bed. Danny closes her eyes to Laura's handsy ministrations and rapid fire questions of "What happened? Are you all right? Well of course you're not 'all right,' but are you ok? Are you hungry? Do you need a blanket? Where's - "

Danny opens her eyes again. "Carmilla's here."

And in she climbs, through the window, like a disgruntled cat coming in from a storm. She is wearing the clothes she left in, but they are crumpled, and stained. She bunches up some of her hair and wrings it out on the kitchen floor before she even looks up at Laura and Danny. "Worst. Day. Ever."

Laura launches at her, but skids to a stop - "Carmilla! You're bleeding!"

"Nah, that's old." Carmilla lifts her shirt to expose her healed stomach, save for a scarring puncture line just to the left of her navel.

"Come sit down, Laura," Danny pats the spot beside her. "We've got a story to tell you..."   After Laura settles down, pouring Carmilla a glass of red, and patching up Danny's scrapes, she still refuses to let either of them stray too far from her. So while Danny recalls the last half of a day that feels like a week, Laura sits between them both, keeping their hands tethered to hers, and occasionally pressing a kiss to Carmilla's head, which is leaning heavily on Laura's shoulder. 

"The Cat thing is pretty impressive, I have to admit. She ran for hours, didn't stop until we reached the edge of campus. Not the most comfortable of rides, but we made it back in one piece. More or less."

Laura watches as Danny readjusts her newly bandaged wrist, and can't imagine a scenario where Danny would _let_ Carmilla's fangs anywhere near her, so she has to admit she's pleased they found a way to middle ground. Even if it is the middle ground that borders life and death.

 She glances at Carmilla, and then to Carmilla's empty blood-stained cup.

"Hey," she nudges the sleepy girl, "Do you want any more to drink?"

"No, just sleep," Carmilla curls deeper into Laura, and her hands brush Danny's side when she encircles Laura's waist.

"That sounds like an awesome idea. We can talk more tomorrow. Sorry for making you worry, Laura." Danny rubs Laura's knee quickly before she stands up and stretches - her head is no longer visible within the camera's frame.

"Don't apologize, I'm just happy you're both ok. You don't wanna just spend the night?"

Speaking above the frame, Danny declines, "All my stuff is at my place, and honestly, all I really wanna do is take a shower and burrow in my sheets for the next 3 days. But I'll see you in class tomorrow."

Danny stretches again, her shirt lifting slightly above her belly. When she brings her hands down again, she smoothes the shirt lower over her hemline, somewhat nervously.

"You're camera's still on, by the way." Danny's hand points to the screen.

Laura cringes, "Yea I was... avoiding homework. But now that you're both safe I have an article to edit and a short story to critique before class."

"Better get to it, then."

"Mmkay," Laura nods, before reaching a hand up for Danny to grasp, and squeeze for a second.

Danny lets go, then hits Carmilla's bare foot. "Thanks for the help out there, Milo."

"Go home, Otis, " comes the reply from somewhere near Laura's stomach. Carmilla is sinking further and further into her.

"Cats: they only want to snuggle when you're trying to be productive," Laura smiles as she pets Carmilla's hair.

 

~~~~~

 

"I must admit your persistence is impressive, although extremely annoying," the Alchemy Club Junior Honcho says to LaFontaine as they enter the Administration wing with Perry's access card.

"I could tell you were curious Josef, you're a knowledge seeker, just like me. I just did the legwork of finding out your class schedule and name, and then J.P. found your phone number in student records. And now we're fast friends on the road of trepassing and whistle blowing, right?" LaFontaine whispers proudly, entering the waiting room outside the Dean's office.

"While our 'friendship' is debatable, I remain relentlessly curious about the Dean's secrets."

"So, let's work together and spill some beans. Have you seen anything like this before?" LaFonatine indicates the Dean's door, seemingly normal. But when Josef tries to turn the handle, the door becomes heavy and solid, like stone.

"Well it's transmutation, but I can't see the power source. It'll be difficult if it's behind the door."

LaFontaine holds two fingers up and curls them down as they list, "Options are to break the seal, or create a more powerful transmutation to circumvent it, right?"

Josef looks mildly impressed over his shoulder,"Yes, that's right. I'm guessing option two is the best. But that could spark some nasty repercussions - maybe just let me take care of this."

"Yes LaFonataine, let the man work. You've been hounding him with questions since we scooped him up from his lab," Perry announces her return with a gentle rub along LaFontaine's shoulders. LaFontaine shurgs but follows Perry over to the row of chairs at the wall.

"So you - "

"Swiped the key card at several locations, creating a false trail so that our visit does not trace back to the Superintendent. So far as records show, he simply forgot something in his office, stopped at the staff room for a vending machine beverage, and left through the South exit."

"I still don't fully trust that guy... but if he's cool with letting us sneak around, I guess he can't be all bad."

"He really isn't," Perry insists. "He's very kind, and very... zen. He likes to meditate. I can't imagine anyone evil having the patience to meditate regularly."

LaFontaine and Perry share quiet but bright smiles in the corner, relieved to be able to speak freely again. At the Dean's door, calming flashes of blue and purple light flicker and fade in front of Josef's silhouette. The twelfth strike of midnight from the antique clock across the hall echoes a thrill of excitement and mischief.

"I've got it!" Josef says needlessly, as the Dean's stone doorway melts away before their eyes. "I used the same transmutive substance that helped the Zetas build the tunnel in the woods."

LaFontaine rushes closer, "Ah-ha! See! I knew you knew something about the tunnel. My intuition is flawless."

"Hold on, stand back a minute - it dissolves stone into - "

"Ugh! Goop. Why is it always goop?"

Perry steps gingerly over the goopy door way and proceeds with purpose into the Dean's Office. It's quiet, dark, and magnificenitly decorated. A marble statue of a Greek soldier guards the entrance way. A chandelier, crystal, hangs from an unusually high ceiling, a shroud of dark silk floating gracefully around it, and there is light reflecting in little pinpricks, but there is no source of illumination within the room. The windows hide behind thick curtains of hand-woven and intricate medieval stylings of dark red and black and green. Everything looks too perfect, too ancient, too expensive and regal, to be marred by any such trivial affair as death. The Dean feels very much alive in this room.

Perry takes a deep nostril inhale and exhales, "This place is immaculate."

"Her PC,  " LaFontaine's eyes are honed on the Dean's desk, and they say to the flash drive in their hand, "I hope you're as excited as I am, J.P."

"There really is a soul in there?" Josef inquires while steering himself towards a bookcase with batwing bookends.

"He was sucked into the library's catalog in 1874. You know, for being nosy, and getting caught," Perry shrugs and heads to a large wardrobe made of darkly stained Styrian Oak.

"Oh wow, J.P., I think Perry just took a jab at you," LaFontaine smirks, inserting the flashdrive into the console.

"...."

"...."

"...."

_That, Madam Perry, is most correct. Let us refrain from making such silly mistakes again._

"Indeed," Perry agrees.

"He's added a winky face emoticon," LaFontaine shares.

"It's been two minutes and I've already found something incredibly interesting and probably deadly. We should speed this up," Josef says, his face very close to the page of a large golden-trimmed tome.

LaFontaine smirks confidently, "Full steam ahead, cohorts."

 

~~~~

 

A storm brews on the horizon. Dark clouds swirl around a wide-eyed void, angry with shackled power. The snow fallen on the ground is airborne again, helpless against the howling wind of time and unseen future. Silas University lies directly in its path.

 

~~~~

 

"Well, that's ominous." LaFontaine announces some time later.

"The Tunnel?" Josef asks.

"Not exactly, but I think it's all related. J.P.'s found a cache of digitized letters, real formal parchment ones, written by the Dean herself... The ones from 1870 specifically mention the Lustig, and I think refer to Lophiiformes." LaFontaine reads aloud:

_The Lustig Chapel again draws too-curious minds to it, signaling the Dawn of the Sacrifice, preparations for which are already under way. Per the High Council wishes, the search for the Arm will no longer be priority, and the sustainability of the Guardian remains paramount.  Styria remains stable and protected, and Silas continues to stand strong._

"That brings up a few new questions," LaFontaine surmises.

"It's convenient that they're all right there on her computer," Perry peeps behind a large antique scrying bowl, its waters reflecting the warm glow of the computer screen.

"It's the Digital Age, Perr, the Dean's not gonna leave her personal info just lying about in file cabinets for anybody to rifle through."

"Her security password and firewalls seem to work little better," Perry chides. She runs her finger along the rim of the bowl, and tries to blow off dust that isn't on her fingertip.

"That's 'cuz J.P.'s a miracle... I wonder what the 'Arm' is... And here's another one, looks more like damage control... _the disruption caused by my subordinates' carelessness... The failure has been dealt with and a new track has been put in place for the Alchemists..._

LaFontaine stops reading. And then blinks, shakes their head minutely, and stares at the screen. Perry asks the matter.

"Josef... your name is in here. You worked on the Luciferin Compound?"

"I perfected it."

Josef contemplates, and then replaces the book he was searching back on the shelf. "In the spirit of uncovering old secrets... I suppose I should come clean at this point."

And so it turns out that Alchemy Club Junior Honcho Josef Klein was an undergraduate when the Alchemy Society's Experiment into Everlasting Youth went awry in 1870. It was dark work, separate from the school, but funded personally by the Dean. Josef walks a tour around the Dean's office while LaFontaine and Perry listen attentively.

"There was an accident during the final test, everyone else perished. The Luciferin Compound was only meant to be a source of light energy for the transformation, but we miscalculated. An explosion of dark matter and ash destroyed the mountain top laboratory. It swept right into the valley below us, where a small village lay. The ash cloud stifled the valley and mountain for days, but the University wanted it kept quiet."

Perry has moved to LaFontaine's side, and while both listen intently to Josef's story, J.P.'s image flickers briefly, before reappearing stable, lines of code and search requests filing past the machinations window.

"Perhaps I was foolish, but I had to ask for help, I couldn't just let our mistake hurt innocent people. So I went to the Zeta Fraternity, and together we worked on a portable substance that could weather away rock in minutes, the same that allowed us access here tonight. But by then several days had already passed, and the Zetas were anxious to be heroes. They proclaimed their mission proudly on the day of the rescue, but didn't realize who would be listening," Josef gestures vaguely to the dark room.

"I don't know what happened, but I can imagine it terribly. Voracious vampires, and a whole village in eternal night... No one escaped through the Tunnel. When the dust had settled, the Dean finally held a Town Hall.  'A volcanic eruption is what blanketed that unfortunate village and rescue efforts were futile', she said. Lives were mourned, a tree and memorial were planted, and then all trace of the incident was erased. People stopped talking about it. And the Dean... the Dean put me back to work, wanting the key to keeping the brightest minds young and inquiring with no hindrance of mortality... She called it her retirement plan. Having just received eternal life, I did not yet want to relinquish it - so I continued the Dean's research in the dark. I've been an undergraduate at Silas for nearly a century and a half."

A moment of heavyness washes over the room.

"So, do you just regenerate your cells faster than the average human, or is it just a 'stop growing completely' thing? Like are you forever the exact same 20 year old, bone density and cholesterol levels and everything?" LaFontaine asks after that moment passes. Josef tilts his head, having made his way back to the bookcase again.

"I - I was expecting a little more resistance than that. I just revealed that I was the cause of an entire village perishing," Josef seems a little off-balance, and he holds the side of the heavy bookcase for support.

"Don't do that - or stop doing it, punishing yourself I mean, if that's what you've been doing all these years. All that's in the past, what matters is what you're doing now... Here, J.P. wants to say something," LaFontaine looks back at the Dean's screen, static-y and frantic behind the only solid image, that of J.P. and his text box. " 'Brother, you and I are the same unfortunate victims of the mysteries of this place. Our quest for the moral right has not been without difficultly, but it is not over,' " LaFontaine nods as they finish. "Right, well said! Oh wait, Josef come here - " Josef does so, and LaFontaine reaches up to clasp his hand in a handshake over the Dean's large, old desk. "That's from J.P."

"Thank you," Josef says sincerely. "I have to admit that while still quite terrified of the Dean, the Alchemy Club has been understandably miffed since she cut our funding and forced our experiments underground. The opportunity to find some dirt on this woman is appealing."

"Too bad we couldn't wait for Carmilla," LaFontaine mentions casually, but it becomes clear that it was a mistake. The computer screen fizzles with static for a brief moment, shocking LaFontaine. "Ouch, what the - J.P., you good?"

 _Our presence has been recognized.._ J.P.'s image shakes within the confines of his window.

Dawn breaks. A single ray of morning sunlight fights its way through the thick curtains; it manages to find the prism of a single crystal, and with an unseen force, sends the chandelier above swaying noisily. It clinks and shimmers, and the light catches in the scrying bowl, and the room is now much brighter than it was previously - and the human presence within it is no longer ignored.

An alarm sounds from the computer, all science-fiction and glaring red. The screen glows brilliantly and LaFontaine struggles with the keyboard, their hands seemingly glued to the keys.

"I can't let go!"

J.P.'s image is gone, the screen is bright red, then blue, then black, and then 80's Apple Computer typescript taps along the screen.

_... ... ADMIN USER RECOGNIZED. SECURITY THREAT IMMINENT ... ..._

_... ... ACTION: EXECUTE / EXECUTE / EXECUTE ... ..._

Perry shrieks while trying to wrest LaFontaine away from the computer, "Whaaat is happening!?"

"It's a program to deal with intruders," LaFontaine tries to remain calm, but the alarm whirrs loudly and the bright lights do not help.

J.P.'s static-riddled image struggles to pop up on screen: _Danger LaFontaine! It's actually trying to *execute* us! Disconnect now! ADMIN seeks to suck you into the digital consciousness!_

J.P.'s image is again lost, his text box flickering as another box superimposes itself and reads threatening commands.

_... ... SENSORY OVERLOAD // INITIATE PROTOCOL 000... ..._

_... ... CAPTURE AND DIGITIZE ... ..._

J.P.'s image flickers violently under the barrage of code, and in between rapid evasion tactics, he urges LaFontaine to disconnect immediately. But LaFontaine can't, their hands aren't hands - the ends of both wrists blur into unearthly white light, and the light is climbing higher up both arms.

"You're not taking them away from me!" Perry shouts frantically, and without hesitation, she knocks the Dean's computer off the desk with both hands, and it dangles from cords and Ethernet cables, but still flashes warnings. Diving below the desk, she yanks out J.P.'s flash from the external hard drive. His image retreats from the screen but there's no way to know if Perry made it in time. With LaFontaine now struggling animatedly, trying to push the desk away with both feet, Perry resorts to drastic measures.

"Josef! The bowl!"

Together they lift the fragile scrying bowl from its pedestal, and rush back to the desk. LaFontaine's eyes are wide with fear but they have no words of encouragement nor dissuasion. So it just happens.

The water splashes all over the table, floods over the burning white keyboard and attached hands of LaFontaine, spills down to spark up the hard drive, the chandelier shakes violently, and even the single sun beam ignites briefly in a blinding burst of angry energy. The sirens stop, the red glow dissipates, the room quiets again, save for the labored breathing of three shell-shocked humans.

LaFontaine falls backwards out of the chair. Aside from a questionable concussion to the back of their head, they appear unharmed - hands and everything else. Josef sits on the floor with the empty scrying bowl dampening an expensive looking rug.

LaFontaine cradles J.P.'s flashdrive in their hands, "That's the second time J.P's been removed from the hard drive without ejecting properly first - "

"That's the _last time_ ," Perry's voice shakes. "It's not worth it, LaFontaine. This must stop." Perry assists LaFontaine in standing and checks the back of their head. LaFontaine puts J.P. in their back pocket and experimentally stretches and contracts all fingers.

Josef returns to the bookcase and takes the same leather book he perused earlier. "Let's take what we can salvage and leave. And discuss our safehouse options, because we are probably in need of one by now."

"The Summer House -" Perry starts, but LaFontaine interrupts. "No - Laura first. She'll want to know about this. The tunnel, the vampire attack, Lophiiformes being some sort of guardian... We've got a lot of things to discuss."

 

 ~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me if my German accent (replacing all w's with v's) is accurate or shameful.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Flashbacks or memories or visions?  
> ~The age-old question: "Should we do it because it's fun, or should we stop because it's dangerous?"  
> ~And more Laura/Danny/Carmilla interaction, which is what we're all here for anyway.
> 
> Next chapter is the long-awaited BONFIRE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: ~4900
> 
> I've been traveling recently and trying to find time between my two jobs to write this. But you all know that I'm a slow writer. I appreciate your patience, as always. 
> 
> Language notes from Croatian"  
> "Da... Ali ponekad je nebo zatvoreno" - Yes... but sometimes the sky is closed.
> 
> "moj zvijezda" - my star

~~~~

_"I could live here. For awhile..." Carmilla speaks softly onto the night air, carried over the stone battlements of Lovrijenac fortress. Beside her, Mother appears calm, watching the sky darken and the sea gulls squawk around the ship sails below them. Dubrovnik in 1870 is quaintly populated by seafarers and tradesmen... Tomorrow morning, when a sailor or young bar maid turns up delirious and pallor, no one will suspect much more than an exhaustive night of shore leave or the waning affects of ill libations._

_"We leave tomorrow, in fact, my dear," Mother says with a sigh that's meant to commiserate but sounds more irksome. Carmilla steeples her fingers on stone still warm from the Mediterranean sunset, and leans her lips into them when she asks, "Something requires your attention back in Styria?"_

_"Don't mumble, darling, it's indigent. And yes, there's been something of a fuck up... but such is life; one can't vacation forever. " Mother turns to Carmilla and slides a strand of her dark hair between finger and thumb. The knuckles of her right hand graze Carmilla's cheek, and there is no heat, but there is warmth._

_"Styria is our home, now. There's no other place like it, wouldn't you agree?"_

_"Da... Ali ponekad je nebo zatvoreno," Carmilla sighs as the first star rises in the blue dusk._

_"Your Croatian is improving, moj zvijezda, in only such a short time. You're such a bright girl," Mother coos, letting her hand fall from Carmilla's side. Carmilla feels like she should say something else, but no words, in any language, come to mind. The moment feels disorienting, and Carmilla is left with only the ghost of a feeling._

_Turning away, Mother sighs dramatically and wafts her hand across the harbor below them. "Furthermore, are you not_ tiresome _of this salted air? It smells of herring, constantly."_

_Without waiting for a reply, Mother steps away from the castle wall and continues down the path. Carmilla runs her fingers over the wall, catching grooves of masonry, seasoned with sea salt. "Some might call it charm," she says to herself, but Mother probably heard her anyway. Mother hears everything._

_"Come, Carmilla. We have affairs to attend, and dinner to ensnare."_

_"Da, Majka."_

~~~~

 

Danny always remembers to knock immediately _after_ she's already pushed open the door to dorm room 307. In the back of her mind she's always imagined catching Laura, or even Laura and Carmilla, in a rather personal situation, and yet, every time, she's already got her head inside the room before she internally reprimands herself.

So really she shouldn't feel so surprised at seeing Laura curled up on Carmilla's bed, her back to the door and writing in a spiral notebook, or trying to at least, because Carmilla is distracting her. Danny hears Laura breathily giggle, "I'm _trying_ to write an outline here," and Carmilla shrugs further into Laura. Her arms snake up Laura's spine and lift her thin T-shirt, and Carmilla slides her body up, to curl her mouth into the space at Laura's neck. Danny swallows, and Carmilla opens her eyes over Laura's shoulder, remarking in a lethargic tone, "Have you been helped, Madame Géante, or is there something I can do for you?"

"What?" Laura says confused, but Carmilla releases her and nods towards Danny. "The interruption has arrived. I was waiting for it to speak up."

"Er, sorry to interrupt - "

"No, you're not," Carmilla shifts so that Laura can turn over, but she still spoons Laura closely. 

"What's up?" Laura tucks her hair behind her ear and blinks at Danny curiously and engaged. The action does weird things to Danny's stomach.  Carmilla also props her head up to look at Danny, mildly intrigued. Danny notices her slender hand doesn't stop drawing patterns on Laura's hip.

Danny sucks in a breath through her teeth and expresses mild commiseration when she complains, "Perry wants a meeting about the bonfire. Kirsch and his boys won't give up on it, but Perry is positive the Super will shut it down. We need a mediator."

 

~~~~

 

In the hallway outside Perry's room, Kirsch, with Zane standing crossed-arm behind him, and Perry are having a hushed but animated argument about the bonfire.

Laura and Danny arrive to see Perry raise her hands in a parenting manner, "It's just not safe, Kirsch, it'd be foolish to tempt fate like that."

"Maan, nothing's gonna happen 'cuz nothing's been happening! This place sucks now, everyone's afraid of a stupid hole in the ground!" He stamps his foot impatiently, "This bonfire's gonna be like a new chapter, right? Them old societies used to have parties like this all the time!"

"Kirsch, they didn't _dance_ in their own _sacrificial pits!"_

"Take back the Pit! Take back the Pit!" Kirsch and Zane start whisper chanting.

"Woah, woah, there," Laura steers herself between them.

Perry immediately shushes her. "LaFontaine is resting inside!" She whispers urgently, "As you may know, we recently suffered a very traumatic ordeal, and now, it seems, we're trying to invite another disaster right to our door."

" _Don't say that!"_ Kirsch whisper yells, "You call it a disaster before it even starts, _of course_ it's gonna go wrong! Everything is going to be fine, I keep trying to tell you - "

"Kirsch," Laura tries, but he goes on. "We've got the music, the venue, all the essentials -

"You mean the liquor and mind-altering substances that will surely put some students at risk - " Perry chides.

"I rented a _truck_ for this, guys, I've got it all covered - "

Danny gets his attention with a punch to the arm. "Kirsch! That is not the problem here."

Laura motions a calming gesture with her hands, "Look, no one doubts your party planning skills - but this _is_ a bonfire in the Pit, where y'know, somewhere down there is the Dean and a demigod, or maybe they're the same thing now, but... it's like dancing on graves. Zombie graves. Graves that could crumble away at any moment and creepy zombie hands catch us by our ankles."

" _It'll be the graves of everyone that attends your party_."

" _Okaay_ , that's a bit much, Perry," Laura shushes.

Kirsch deflates, and Zane looks confusingly expectant behind him, but Laura can tell Kirsch is just thinking. He's a history major, so he likes his chronology.

Laura tries to help simplify things, "Let's go over the facts again, ok? What do we know?"

Perry opens her hands as if the answer lies perfectly placed between them,  "The Pit is dangerous.

"It's been rather quiet for a dangerous threat," Danny offers, but Laura reminds, "Well, maybe we're desensitized to it now, but the earthquakes aren't really quiet, sometimes."

"Look, the Zetas have been cleaning out the Pit for weeks, no one's been hurt or gone missing." Kirsch turns to Laura, "L.A.F. did science tests, you saw the chart! It's just dirt, dude."

"Yea man, dirt. You can have a party on dirt, it's great," Zane backs up Kirsch.

"Well that's just laundry waiting to happen, and completely beside the point - "

"We've got the Tunnel as an option." Danny shrugs, "It's not the best, but it's as safe a place as any, until we can figure something else out. And as long as we stay away from the other side... although the villagers have probably sealed it up by now."

Perry shakes her head and puts her hand on the doorknob, as though just about ready to leave this conversation. "The Superintendent may be on our side, but he's never going to O.K. something as reckless as this. Why are we still discussing it?"

Kirsch nudges Danny's arm, and she gives him a look before saying, "Kirsch has a point though - people need to feel safe; throwing a party could do that. It's a huge hole on campus, we can't just ignore the problem."

Perry tilts her head sarcastically, "We've been doing fine so far, you all keep saying."

"And I do have a safety plan, it's not like I haven't thought about it," Kirsch says, "Of course I have. You're all my bros, I don't want anybody to get hurt."

"Then why not have the party somewhere else? A nice classroom maybe, or the auditorium?"

"I've told you, it's the principle! It has to be the Pit."

" _Take back the Pit! Take back the Pit!"_

Danny holds up her hands, "We're just circling back around, this isn't deciding anything."

Laura moves her hands so quickly her whole torso shakes, "Stop, stop, we're getting nowhere with this." She takes a calming breath and thinks with her tongue pressed against her teeth. "Putting the Pit on hold for a second, what else are we dealing with?"

"LaFontaine thinks there's a program out there trying to hunt us down," Perry says with exasperation, a hand coming to cover her eyes briefly. "The Dean's gone but that doesn't mean all the rules have gone with her. And we keep breaking rules. We can't keep digging into things we don't want to find out."

Kirsch shrugs, "Maybe we should be focusing on other things then... Like the bonfire?"

Laura brings up her pointer finger to touch a thought, "Or whatever it was that drew the Dean away from fish duty in 1870. The letters, they mentioned an Arm - what if that Arm is weapon, or a fishhook for a giant Angler?"

Danny shoots it down swiftly, "We don't know anything about the Arm, though. That's gonna require more of that digging that we want to avoid."

" _Take back the Pit! Take back - "_ Zane and Kirsch chant.

 _"Shut up!"_ Laura and Danny yell.

"SShhhhhh!" Perry hushes. But she leans against the door and sighs heavily. In mild acquiescence she says, "All right. I guess there's only one person that can stop you and your insane bonfire plan, and maybe he'll allow the students to blow off some steam. But there's something bigger out there, some High Council that even the Dean had to answer to, and I'm worried if we have another upset, it's gonna be those people who come looking for someone to blame."

The group ponders this for a moment. Then Danny spreads her hands in front of everyone. "So this is what we're working with. And it seems like there's not much we can do about anything."

"But we _have_ to do something," Laura sighs tiredly.

Kirsch pipes up. "Come to the bonfire? At least have a drink before our world ends, ya know."

Perry huffs and crosses her arms. Danny shakes her head, then crosses her arms and pressed two fingers to her temple. "At this point, I could use one, to be honest."

"I guess everyone could, probably," Laura agrees.

Perry pouts. "I don't like it."

Laura puts a gentle hand on her shoulder, "To be fair, you are a Floor Don. You don't like most college parties anyway."

"You're all crazy and this is definitely going to get shut down."

 

~~~~

 

Tucked in the corner of the Zeta library/storage unit, Laura sighs heavily into her lap, "Anything new, Jeeps?"

A computerized voice reads out J.P.'s response through Laura's headphones, " _ADMIN is still monitoring access to the Ethernet. Research has been slow today."_

"I'm envious that you don't suffer from neck cramps, J.P. At this point I might be ok with being sucked into a digital consciousness." After releasing her shoulder, Laura tilts her head in consideration, "I wouldn't have periods anymore."

_"But consider, Laura, hot chocolate? There is a sore lack of the luxury where I am. No code for a stiff cognac, either."_

"Oh. Sorry J.P."

_"Nothing to apologize for, friend, just commiserating. You've been hard at work for hours now, one is expected to feel the strain."_

"I just wish it had been more worthwhile. There's nothing more about any Arm in any of the Dean's old letters, and being locked out of the Silas catalog has severely limited our resources."

"Chin up, Hollis," Kirsch says as he enters the Zeta library. "Maybe we all just need to take a step back. 'Refresh and re-approach', right?"

"And go to your party?" Laura fishes for Kirsch's guilty smile.

"It's not my party, it's _our party._ And yea I hope you'll be there." Kirsch sits somewhat awkwardly on the crowded desk of storage bins and puts a hand on Laura's shoulder. "You've always been the hardest worker, Laura. You, more than anybody, deserve a break."

"Is it ok to admit I'm still a little scared?" Laura leans back into her chair, and listens to J.P.'s computerized but comforting response. " _We must not allow fear to drown us. Remember to live for yourself, Laura. There can be light in the darkest of nights."_

Kirsch stands up but squeezes Laura's arm before letting go. "It'll seem a lot less scary after you throw a firecracker into it."

"I hope you're right," Laura says as she stands and stretches.

"Get some rest, Laura. Party time in less than 24 hours," Kirsch smiles winningly.

 

~~~~

 

_They are in the rose garden, but all Carmilla smells is fragrant cherry. She can't remember if this is a dream or a memory, but Carmilla doesn't care._

_She takes a deep breath against Ell's hair and is reminded, fitfully, of a memory of her Life - a strong and old cherry tree would bloom outside her father's study every spring. The footsteps of her younger sibling, the brush of father's hand across her shoulder. The faces are blurred, the visions hazy from the dust of time. But in an instant, the vision is gone, and Ell is pushing at Carmilla's chest -_

_"You seem taken by a spirit, Carmilla - why do you hold me so close?"_

_"I - I'm sorry, have I hurt you?" Carmilla wipes her hands down her dress to keep her fingers from twitching._

_"Just startled," Elle brings her hand to Carmilla's, "Do you need to retire back inside?"_

_"Yes, perhaps so." Carmilla pulls at Ell's fingers lightly. "The governess will be resting upstairs, yes?" and Ell nods as she links Carmilla's arm with hers._

_Carmilla adopts a mischievous look as she whispers, "Then perhaps we shall find ourselves alone in the pantry where the chocolate is kept."_

Ell's giggle echoes across centuries and doesn't let Carmilla close her eyes.

Carmilla watches an orange circle dance on the ceiling, the rim of the candle above her burning a large flicker of light against the dark shadows of the dorm. There's no breeze, it's just a slowly dying spark, spastically bright then dimly hushed, and Carmilla's transfixed. Her brow furrows, she hates the way it moves; she wishes it would just go out already; she's so tired. But the light demands her attention, it won't let her turn away, and this makes Carmilla upset. Angry.

Laura shifts in the crook of shoulder, her breath warm across Carmilla's collarbone, but it still can't pull Carmilla back. Carmilla tenses, a stone in the comfort of her leopard printed bed sheets. She holds herself tighter together, her eyes darkly focused on the light circle as it flickers as far as the rim of the candleholder will allow it.

Carmilla blinks, and there are 3 circles now, a Venn-styled apparition with each sphere of light flickering to merge with the next. The one to the right seems faint, the flame doesn’t quite reach the ceiling, and the color resembles the yellow gold of Laura's hair in sunlight. Carmilla tries to focus on this one, but the one directly across from it keeps interfering, spreading its darker hue across edges. The red glass reflects its color on the ceiling, making the most robust circle of candlelight, and Carmilla hates the way it bruises against the lighter one. The third circle above the others is darker, seemingly fighting against shadow to reach the ceiling at all. It hovers closely to the other circles, entwining its rim and stealing some color from both. The more Carmilla focuses on this dark one, however, the more the red circle creeps in, seeming to flicker beyond boundaries and fully engulf the dark, weak circle. Red creeps into all the circles, it seeps into the ceiling and soaks it with wine or blood.

The words echo in Carmilla's head before she can clearly understand them.

_Carmilla struggles with insouciance in the hard wooden chairs in the Dean's office. She rests her foot on the edge of her chair, her leg and knee putting some space between her and the space that Will is needlessly occupying beside her. Carmilla imagines his invisible tail is wagging happily after the lecture she just received from Mom. But he's too desperate for Mother's approval, and broaches an issue a little higher than his rank._

_"But what of the Arm, Mother? The search is going to be suspended because we can't find a babysitter?" and the Dean slices her eyes at Will, making him wither with her silence. She expels air through her nose, and speaks with a lilt suggesting nonchalance, and with a hint of malice. "Such matters should hardly be your concern William. Silas needs us here." She waves a hand through the air and dismisses both the topic and Will, "Furthermore, the Arm is lost to time, nothing more than myth to give false hope to weak heroes."_

_Carmilla watches Will deflate. "Oh..."_

_"Yes, 'oh'," she echoes with mild disdain. "My boy, you're as dim as the night I found you, but your incessant ambition is admirable."_

_She leans back in her chair, powerful and terribly beautiful. "Speaking of ambition," she turns sweetly back to Carmilla, "You'll stay the course for this Philosophy degree, yes? I'd rather you stay away from the Sociology Department; bunch of vegetarians and Mills fanatics, blathering on about elitism and power."_

_"It's this Post-War age. The smoke clears and leaves behind a stark reality that incenses." Carmilla inspects her fingernails for dirt, and remembers the clotted blood and wooden splinters that irritated for decades. "People wise up, eventually."_

_The Dean nods in mild agreement before bringing the subject back around. "In any case, it remains unfortunate that your travels will have to be suspended again. Having you disappear for another few years abroad will leave us with more of a circumstance than we can afford."_

_"True freedom is a myth, after all." Carmilla says flatly. The Dean tuts lightly, but stands to indicate the meeting is adjourned. Will jumps up quickly while Carmilla seems to levitate to her feet._

_"Your wild soul is difficult to tame, my darling. But that's what keeps you shining in these dim halls, amongst these dull filaments. If it pleases you, we may start our sessions again, perhaps give that wildness some focus. Would you like that, Carmilla?"_

_Will has stepped to the door, realizing his presence as both forgotten and ignored, and Carmilla closes her eyes when Mother caresses her arm, "Truthfully, I've missed it."_

_"You've still much left to teach me, so you keep reminding me," Carmilla smiles convincingly._

_Mother's teeth gleam impeccably white in her smile, "Then join me for dinner later, my star."_

_"Of course, Maman."_

Laura groans suddenly and Carmilla feels her push, _hard_ , against her chest. " Carm - "

Carmilla looks down to find Laura trapped in a one-arm embrace turned desperate clutch. Carmilla drops her arm from Laura's back, heavy as a stone, and her body tenses again, but this time from fear. Laura pushes herself up on her elbow and studies Carmilla, and Carmilla realizes finally the wetness of her own cheeks, as tears fall from her dark eyes. Laura says nothing but kisses her cheek, wipes away the tears with her thumb.

Laura eventually falls back asleep, but Carmilla does not allow herself the luxury.

 

~~~~

"So you wanna go together, then?"

"Yea, I'm actually kinda excited for it." Laura pushes syrup and crusty bits around her plate, the remnants of dessert. "You should come over early and we can get ready together too."

"Ok, sounds fun, " Danny smiles, and they hold each other's gaze for just a second too long, and both start to flush -

 - when Carmilla interrupts, sliding into the bench behind Laura, her elbow supporting her on the table as she lets her head tilt over her shoulder in complaining lethargy, "You're supposed to let the meal linger on your palate, not erase it with antiseptic spearmint gum. Which smells disgusting, by the way."

Danny blows and pops a bubble at Carmilla, while Laura turns on the bench and leans into Carmilla's side, "You're just cranky 'cuz you skipped breakfast."

"How do you know I haven't eaten?" Carmilla unconsciously runs her tongue over a tooth.

Laura lifts her fingers to curl Carmilla's bangs behind her ear, "As a frequenter of the mini fridge, I noticed you had nothing left of the supply LaFontaine brought. And considering your mildly unconvincing 'I-just-woke-up-like-this' hair, it's only logical that you're hungry."

Carmilla turns her face away but rubs her head into Laura's hand, "Smart ass."

"It is," Laura smiles happily. Danny leans into Laura, "Settle a debate for us, Karnstein."

Carmilla turns her head away again with a mild hair flip, "I refuse."

"I think you look more like a leopard, Danny thinks you're a panther. Which is it?" Laura prods. "Leopards are sneaky," she adds, rubbing her shoulder against Carmilla's.

"Sweetheart, 'Panther' is regional moniker for a leopard. They're all just big cats."

"And I'm a cat person, Carmilla. I need to know these details."

"In case one of these days you accidently introduce me as your pet instead of your girlfriend?"

"Ooo," Danny slides away from the table.

"Anyway," Laura covers quickly, "It's just... really cool, y'know?"

Carmilla turns her head back to smirk at them both, "You think I'm cool, huh?"

"Yes." "Somewhat." Carmilla's eyes slide to Danny, who just makes the _whatever_ gesture with her hands and pops another bubble.

Carmilla's eyebrows rise to lift her shoulders, and she straddles the bench next to Laura, leaning in, "Its about Knowledge."

Carmilla's voice lowers, "There exists a unifying ... force, and it connects everything to everything else through what could be most simply described as a language. Life, after all, is about learning, so it follows that the longer you exist, the more the knowledge of this language becomes accessible.  So, for example, my first panther transformation happened in my 107th year."

"So it IS a panther!"

"Somewhat - it's rather a... manifestation of what a panther _is..."_

"Yea, so... panther." Danny insists.

"How do you do it? Transform, I mean," Laura asks, eyes curious.

"You know the name of animal you want to become, the real, true name of it, and you know the essence of the being... you become it, basically."

"So what, you just sit around counting birthdays, and one day you're just '-boom- cat' ?" Danny asks.

"There's work involved, nothing's a free ride."

"So... this is what makes your mother so powerful, isn't it? She's ancient, she's been around, " Laura shrugs and purses her lips, trying not to laugh at the terrifying thought: "She knows everything, which makes her powerful."

"Not everything," Danny interrupts. "She was looking straight at it when that boulder knocked her into the Pit. She didn't see us coming."

"She's a vampire, not a mystic," Carmilla bites.

"Well, Miss Eye of the Tiger, she's trapped now. And maybe she does have more tricks and a wider vocabulary - but she's not the incarnation of our collective Doom."

Carmilla leans back, affronted, "Watch your ignorance, Amazon."

"I'm just saying she's not as scary as we keep thinking she is - she's stuck inside some big fish, might even be dead at this point. You're acting like she's Voldemort."

"You're an idiot." Carmilla says, and her grip on the bench near Laura's waist crushes the metal between her fingers.

"Wow, hey, this got way more heated than it was meant to," Laura puts hands on both opposing shoulders.

Danny seems to realize that she is almost not-seated anymore, and recovers. "I'm just saying... I don't know what I'm saying, I just don't want to be afraid of some all-knowing she-demon for the rest of my life. It's been a month, nothing's happened at that Pit. Maybe she really is gone."

"We can only hope, " Laura rubs Danny's arm.

"It's foolish to think that. You humans are so blind, just because it can't be seen doesn't mean the danger isn't there." Carmilla stands to leave. She turns over her shoulder, "This bonfire is stupid, we should all stay away from that Pit."

Laura waves her off, "Oh, go eat something, party pooper."

 

~~~~

 

Carmilla does feel better after relieving her thirst, and by the time Danny drops by the dorm room that night, she's in the post-glow warmth of satiation.

"Where on Earth did you even _get_ this," Carmilla says with verbal aversion, holding in her hands Laura's white blouse - the one with the little giraffes all over it. Laura snatches it back.

"I think it's a cute top," Danny says, and Laura chirps, "thank you!"

"Well, why wouldn't you like a shirt printed with your portrait?" Carmilla reclines on her bed, a hand supporting her head as she curls around the book she was reading.

"I'm just gonna do my hair and then we can go, Danny. We'll leave our party pooper to her snide comments."

"You won't even come to call everybody lackwits and imbeciles? That's your favorite thing, right?" Danny jokes.

"I've resigned from trying to convince you otherwise, but I still won't enable stupidity. Have fun at your party, try not to die." Carmilla nonchalantly flips the page that she didn't bother reading.

The hair dryer roars from the small bathroom, filling the room with loud white noise. Danny looks relaxed and comfortable in jeans and a dark blue polo t-shirt with dark red sleeves. The front breast pocket is made of leopard print fabric, bringing a quirky touch to the styled ensemble. Feeling amiable, Carmilla can admit that she recognizes some of those admirable qualities that Laura has remarked upon; her bravery, her sense of righteousness. But, she thinks offhandedly, that doesn't make them any less annoying.

Danny sits down on Carmilla's bed, Carmilla's knees pushing into Danny's back. "Really?" asks the arched eyebrows.

"You're so much more approachable after you're been impaled. I've got a stake in my bag, for stress relief?" Danny asks with attitude. Carmilla's eyes narrow, and Danny's follow suit, and they just squint at each other for a moment, lacking real hostility, and it's a moment both strange and intriguing. Carmilla finds her curiosity leading her eyes, floating back to the red glow of Danny's hair down her back, and while Danny makes a face at the silence between them, Carmilla admires the blue of Danny's irises.

"You without a comeback is a very strange phenomenon. You ok, Fangs?" Danny's eyes crinkle with mild concern.

"Maybe you don't know, but thinking requires silence." Carmilla closes the book and leans up, the weight she's pushing into the mattress bringing Danny down a little.

"And what great riddle are you thinking about?" Danny asks, probably unaware how her pulse has picked up. The hum of the hair dryer seems louder.

"You," Carmilla answers honestly. Danny blinks, and Carmilla's head drops, her gaze finding Danny's hand instead, the one that held a pocket multi-tool to release Carmilla from her second tomb. The scar draws Carmilla's attention, and a light, dusting trail of her fingertip over it. She looks up again, seeing Danny all but hooked. Across Danny's face is the fading diagonal scar from the fight, covered up by a light application of powder. Danny closes her eyes when Carmilla's fingertip brushes along its path.

 "My scars last a little longer than yours, it seems," Danny says softly.

 Carmilla replies, "Maybe the visible ones. But you cover up well."

"Am I... missing something?" Laura bustles then slows to a trot back into the room. Her hair bounces delightfully at her shoulders. Danny bounces once on Carmilla's bed, scooting herself to standing, "Just the party! Ready to go?"

Laura smiles brightly, "Yep!"

"Get outta here, you crazy kids," Carmilla rolls back onto bed. "I'm thinking."

 

~~~~

 

In Laura's excited haste, she forgets to switch off her camera. It records silently as the night goes on, and Carmilla spends her waking hours riffling through books and music records. Nothing seems to capture her interest for long. Eventually she throws herself into her bed sheets for a disgruntled nap. Not long after, she tosses, and turns, and then wakes suddenly, gasping out in some unintelligible tongue, something that even the camera records only as static noise. The words seem to astonish her, and she moves a hand roughly into her hair, sweeping it from her eyes.

"I know where it is," her voice sounds surprised, and hearing it echo in the empty room seems to bring her back from her vision. She stands shakily and moves to the closet. Removing the broadsword from her duffel, she hefts its weight in her hands, "Hope I don't need this."

She flees the room with inhuman speed, and shortly thereafter, the camera's storage capacity fills, and shuts itself off.

~~~~

 

 


	10. The Bonfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Bonfire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is special because it comes with a playlist: [Party At the Pit!](http://8tracks.com/arkeis/party-at-the-pit)
> 
> It's also special in that there are less scene breaks, but still shifts in character POV, so watch for that in the longer scenes.

~~~~

 

This is what the Zetas have been doing for the past month. The culmination of many hours spent clearing the Pit beneath the shadow of the Lustig Chapel; days more focused on party planning and stage building; favors called and backs scratched; secret Zeta handshakes and raised chalices, and  _this_  is why the Zetas haven't tangled in the Sisters' hair. Danny realizes this all in the moment when she and Laura come over the rise and look below, into the fantastically lit, nosily crowded, and very much festively alive, Bonfire in the Pit. There is a heat emanating from the heart of the Pit so palpable it strips the chill from Danny and Laura, leaving them hot beneath their winter coats.

"I guess that answers the question of 'who else is going?'" Laura says.

"Everyone," Danny nods, mildly astonished.

Just ahead of them, a staircase cut into the earth leads easily down to a lower level, where salvaged steel beams from the Lustig building criss-cross and bind to form post-apocalyptic pylon structures, covered with thrown canvas. Between each weight-bearing beam, a cloth hammock has been strung, and they sway lightly in desynchronized harmony, overlooking the main floor, where variously sized bonfire circles illuminate the revelry just beginning to take place.

At the very edge of the Pit lies the dark chasm, somewhere below hiding a terrible monster, and her demi-god goldfish. Standing impressively before it, however, is a wooden structure that towers at least four-people high, decorated with colorful paper lanterns flickering peculiarly with purple candlelight. It distracts from the dark doom behind it, and with the bubbly sound of laughter and the bouncing bass of electronica echoing through the Pit, Danny realizes she doesn't want to think about the unknowable future right now. Right now, she wants to party, with such an intense desire that she's not sure she's ever felt before.

And she's never been so happy to see Kirsch bouncing his way toward them. He's dressed in a three-quarters sleeve button-up, colored like the deep ocean, with golden cuffs and a matching breast pocket, from which hangs a pair of clear-lens sunglasses, brightly colored and attractive. He also wears a short black cape, attached under his collar and wafting regally behind his stride. He wears his snapback backwards, golden on the brim, and it shines like Neptune's crown in the firelight.

"Sooo?" Kirsch fishes when he reaches them, red cupped-hands spread open wide to drink in the scene around them. "Whaddya think?"

Danny shrugs, but then holds up a fist for Kirsch to bump, "It's pretty sweet, dude."

"Excellent!" Kirsch fist bumps with vigor.

"What's with the Leaning Tower of Burning Man?" Laura asks.

"Ooh, oh that's where we got the idea from! There was so much splintered wood, it's more like the Chapel just collapsed into Lincoln Logs, so we just stuck them all together. It was a real bonding experience -"

"Aw, that's nice - " Laura coos.

"- And we're gonna set it on fire at midnight!!"

"Cool," Danny nods, ignoring her immediate concern about fire hazards and _this many_  people.

"I like the lanterns," Laura waves her hand around them, "Very pretty."

"Thank the Alchemy bros. It's that same blacklight stuff they used before."

"The krypton? Is there  _anyone_  still concerned that the sky above the Pit is a purple neon night light?" Danny asks.

"Bro, " Kirsch calms, "No one's concerned about anything tonight, that's the whole point. And the other point is that I've got a great safety net. Come with me."

They cross the open space where party-goers are body-moving and cup-raising to the upbeat swooping of loud tones and mind-numbing bass. Across the way, sheltered under the glow of more paper lanterns hanging from steel beams cemented into the wall of the Pit, is a DJ, a student Danny has seen around but never spoken to. Her clothes are shiny and her booth is crawling with stringed LEDs and it tints her short and shaved-on-one-side hair with dots of purple and red. She dips her chin and snaps her fingers with every hard-hitting snare, and the people crowding her speakers seem to be losing their minds. But collectively they all resonate on the DJ's wavelength, shaking or stuttering whenever she beckons.

Watching the bridge that carries the energy of the crowd, there's a second before the drop when everyone leans their heads back, eyes closed to the purple and orange sky, and they scream with happy abandon. Beside her, Laura is shuffling her feet and bouncing as they walk, and Danny feels the same rhythm rock her toes and heels.

"You both look great, by the way. Loving the theme," Kirsch admires, nodding his head to the beat and dipping his nose into his cup. Laura's white blouse shines orange under firelight, adding to the liveliness of the little giraffe silhouettes running over creases and curves. Danny pops the leopard printed pocket of her dark blue shirt and explains simply, "We're on safari."

"That's awesome! You're just missing one thing - " Kirsch suddenly hoists two full red cups full of something definitely intoxicating in their faces, and Danny toasts Laura before lifting to her lips. Both she and Laura sputter mildly, but smile at Kirsch.

"You can put your stuff down here next to mine. But come over this way after, I've got something cool to show you," Kirsch says, excitedly moving past the lines of tables with drink troughs and kegs. "It's crazy hot, right?" he calls over his shoulder.

"It is a little weird," Laura notes as Danny dips to shove their coats beneath a table. "Or normal, I guess, for Silas," she adds lightly.

When Danny rises again, she finds Laura holding a bottle of pineapple flavored liquor. "For zest?" she shakes the bottle lightly, to which Danny responds with a  _might as well_ shrug, and they both top off their cups. The concoction is only marginally more palatable, but it nevertheless sends warmth to Danny's belly. Drinks in hand, they follow Kirsch to another table, littered with shining circles.

"So when people first come to get their drinks, they also get these cool wrist bands, " Kirsch holds a small band of flexible silicone open between his fingers, and Laura slips her hand through it. It glows alien green in the dark, while others shine with blue or pink.

"You can thank the Alchemy Club.  _Again_ ," Josef says, rolling up in his usual slacks and Silas U polo, but wearing a festive red tie with little yellow lightning bolts all over it.

"Early warning systems are critical in times of disaster. The Alchemy Club crafted these bracelets to glow with the same purple Krypton compound as these lanterns. When the time arrives, I've got the key to activate the alchemical response in every single band."

"And then the Zetas will escort everyone to safety!" Kirsch puffs his chest out and smiles proudly.

Danny gets a frown on her face, "Why wasn't the Summer Society notified about this?"

"Uhhm, because none of you guys wanted to hear about my bonfire plans! I told you had it under control."

"Well, we should tell them now, we need a plan of action for when - "

"Woah woah woah there, Sheriff," Zane comes up behind Danny and hands her another drink, despite her first one still half-full in her other hand. "Let's forget about the messy details for awhile and just keep the vibe goin', all right?"

"You must say that to all the girls - which is disgusting. And so, who's the one in charge of the evacuation? Who's pushing the button?"

"I am." Josef steps up confidently, "You're not the only ones invested in this Pit business. I've had monitors checking in every hour."

"Oh... well that's great then," Danny flounders.

"There's no need to haggle over territories or authority here. This bonfire is for the people; go enjoy yourselves. Live in the moment, as they say." Josef takes Kirsch's drink from his hand, cheers the rims of Laura's and both of Danny's cups, and walks off while drinking deeply.

"I don't know if I'm comforted by his composure or just impressed by the strength of his gullet. How much liquor is in this witches' brew, Kirsch?" Laura cringes before taking another sip.

"Oooh, 'fraid that's a secret Zeta Omega Mu code, Laura. We take our parties  _very_ seriously," and Kirsch tips his head politely when Danny hands him her extra drink.

Danny takes another sip and is relieved when she doesn’t choke. "And is that hammock makeout spot part of your bro party code too?"

"Oh yea, that's the Makeout Hangout, it's critical. Plus it's great for when you get too drunk and have to have a sit-down for a minute. We call it  _'Sittin' Pretty'_."

A strong winter wind blows through the Pit at the moment, rushing in with a cool blast of air. It challenges the bonfires briefly before being overpowered and evaporated into a burst of vapor. The fires stoke hotter and the music echoes louder and all the dancers squeal with delight. The cold leaves as quickly as it arrived.

"OH! Oh, Laura there's one last thing we gotta do, this way, c'mon!" Kirsch hugs Laura to his side before taking her hand and leading her away. Danny follows at a less giddy pace, but realizes quickly they are headed to edge of the party.

It's darker here, behind the shadow of the unlit salvage tower, but the heat remains. Danny watches as Laura slows her approach, and Kirsch's fingers slip from her hand. Coming up behind her, Danny brushes her arm against Laura's right. Laura immediately reaches for her hand.

The edge of the chasm, the place where a month ago Laura sent the Dean and one unlucky boulder to an unknown hell, has been roped off with fairy lights, burning brightly from generators stacked in a corner. A couple Zetas stand by a small table where pyramids of cherry, smoke, flash and sparkling bombs lie stacked and tempting. Kirsch fist bumps his chest in greeting to his bros, grabs a handful, and approaches Laura slowly. He takes her drink from her and sets it on the ground, then gently leads her closer to the edge.

"It won't fix anything really, but the first one feels really good. This one's pretty cool," he says gently, handing a small circle with a long fuse twisted into the outline of a bird.

Laura grips the bomb in her hand. She hasn't been here since the night of the Sacrifice, and is surprised to see the chasm is smaller than she remembers. The hole in the earth is only about 15 feet across, dark as night and deep. Looking behind her, past the supportive faces of Danny and Kirsch, the Pit is bright, people are carefree, and the music and warmth are encouraging Laura to  _just let it go._

Kirsch is at her side, flicking a lighter to life, and the flame burns its way along the shape of the bird.  Laura widens her stance and cocks her arm back, and realizes she doesn't have anything clever to say.

"AUURGHH!" goes her battlecry across the chasm, and the throw itself lost distance but gained height when the bomb exploded in the air, a cloud of smoke and sparks falling away as a second burst sends a little flapping fire-bird spiraling out. It leaves an ash trail that reignites when sparks hit it, and Laura says to Kirsch, "Ok, yea, that's pretty cool."

The bird dissolves and falls into nothingness. "Thanks Kirsch," Laura says sincerely. Kirsch nudges Laura's shoulders firmly, and she opens her arm to give him a strong side-hug.

"Allllll right, lemme smash this," Danny says, bringing a handful of her own explosives to the fairy light barrier. She lights and throws a hefty one, and it drops fairly quickly into darkness, but then explodes brightly, bursting away shadow on its descent. The opposite side of the cavernous deep can be seen in the flashes, but the bomb fizzles after 4 or 5 bursts, leaving only a faint trail of smoke and no sign of a bottom.

"It really just keeps going, huh?" Danny remarks, leaning as far over the edge as she dares.

"It's creepy, but not dangerous," Kirsch agrees. "We're gonna be  _fiiiine_."

Laura throws another bird sparkler, but it's a dud, which really disappoints Laura, more than she thinks it should. She pouts deeply, looking at her handful and trying to make her next choice. "Watch this," Kirsch leans over with a smile, takes a bomb from her hand and lights it, waiting for Danny throw her smoke bomb high into the air. It explodes into bright blue and pink dust, and Kirsch launches his bird straight through it. The timing is perfect, and the lightning bird shoots out of the cloud, trailing colorful smoke tendrils in its wake, and then spirals and dives back through the cloud, bringing more color with it. It shines and smokes for a ways down before it too is swallowed by the nothingness.

"A better poet than I might have something to say about the ephemeral beauty of life that this demonstrates - but all I've got to say is that fireworks are  _really cool_ , " Laura says, making Danny laugh. Kirsch joins in when he throws two cherry bombs into the air and they explode next to each other, propelling each in opposite directions.

Laughter continues to bubble out of all three of them, breathily relieving some of the pressure that Laura's been feeling at the top of her lungs, this whole time feeling like she could never take a real, full, deep breath. Danny and Kirsch begin a battle of trying to upstage and knock the other's bomb from the air, and it results in catastrophic negligence, smoke and ash and light and big bangs all setting the energy ablaze, in their bodies and minds, and the Pit  _feels_  like it could be glowing, and Laura spins in a circle when her last bomb goes off in the air, a brilliant flash of light and a loud  _pop!_  and she can see all around her are people, happy people, happy and not afraid.

Zane runs up in a blurry haze from the crowds, "Dude, dude! Consensus is we light the Big Bruddha early, like right now. Doesn't it feel like we should be doing that?" His voice is breathless with excitement, and his movements are energetic, and he doesn't stop his feet-tapping and arm-dancing to speak. He brings with him the echoes of hard bass and wild electric music.

Kirsch blinks before looking down at his feet, seemingly just now aware that he was rolling rhythmically from heel to toe. "Oh totally, I feel you, bro."

Laura feels her shoulders start to alternate forward and back, and her eyes light up when Kirsch turns back to them, "Let's go set it on  _fire!"_

"Yeeeeeees!" Danny and Laura yell, and Danny rushes from behind Laura, dragging her hand along her back as she passes. The race is on, and Laura feels weightless on her feet, running across warm dirt, protected from the winter wind and chill reality that exists outside the Pit.

"The Pit wants us to party!!" Zane shouts from behind the group, and everyone within it cheers madly.

 

~~~~

 

Cool clarity washes over the Superintendent's closed eyes, lifting his mind out of the muck of the everyday, and resetting his foundation and purpose. Silas is a confusing place, and keeping track of everything, trying to make sense of the intricacies of cause and effect and, most importantly, keeping everything in  _balance_ , is not an easy job.

And yet another, inevitable problem comes shrilling into his ear, his cell phone ringing from his desk into the dim of his private accommodations within the Staff Apartments Complex.

He rubs his temples with his hands, unfolded from his loosely comfortable and simple Yukata robe, shimmering against his dark skin in the pale light. He rises swiftly from his pillowed meditation spot on the floor and swipes to answer with restraint, "This really couldn't wait?"

Through the signals and transmissions comes a voice not connected to a body, but directly to the ghost in the machine.

_"The security feed from the Lustig sector is inoperable."_

"Yes, I remember the memo. There's been other matters the IT and Technicians staff have been working on."

_"Nearby cameras show heightened levels of traffic, uncommon for this time of night."_

"Well, I have no security officers left to investigate. They all left with the Old Guard, and you haven’t supplied me with new hirings."

" _The Budget is at capacity_." The Super pinches the bridge of his nose underneath his small-framed glasses. ADMIN is always such a frustrating thing to talk to.

"Indeed it is, so you understand there's not much I can do. I'll take a look myself,  _tomorrow morning_ ," he finishes with inflection but doubts a computerized conglomerate of the consciousness of old Silas Board officials would catch it.

" _Rumor suggests that members of Zeta Omega Mu have been scavenging the remains of the Lustig. You know the importance of this chapel to our operation."_

 _"_ Nothing life-threatening has been brought to my attention, so I've allowed rumor to slide. It's a huge hole in the ground, and human curiosity is an insatiable force. ' _Heightened traffic'_  at this hour means the students are throwing a party. It's hardly a cause for alarm."

" _The Pit may be compromised, the Pit is priority -"_

"The Pit is not  _my_  priority, and it never was! Every day I spend here further blurs my vision and aches this body, although perhaps you all don't remember what that feels like. Now leave me to my meditation, please!"

The Super jerks his head away violently as an earsplitting tone crackles over the phone.

 _"It is not our desire to see the Silas Portal destroyed. The scales are tipped too far. There is only way to keep the portal sealed, until the next cycle begins. You have an obligation to fulfill, Superintendent._ "

The Super pauses to consider what ADMIN is telling him to do. "You will sacrifice the Dean to keep this secret? Her dark character is worrisome, but the campus has been disintegrating without her and her hierarchy."

 _"Sacrifice is inevitable, as it always was and will be. And you have no power to change that, Superintendent_."

The Super cringes and closes his fist tighter around his cellphone.

"...I will bring you someone tomorrow."

 

~~~~

 

Danny cannot remember what winter feels like, or how cold she was just this morning, aching to her toes when she looked out her window at the crisp snow blanketing the front lawn. She can't remember why she brought her coat, which she has mentally reminded herself twice is still safe under the drinks tables. She can't really remember why she wore such hot jeans, because the body heat and bonfires are almost too much.

It's so hot, and everyone, absolutely everyone, is dancing in the wide space bordering the high wooden tower. The Zetas placed a single horizontal wooden 2x4 near the very top of the tower, and called it a 'mustache' on a very Big Bruddha, who is now set ablaze in near perfectly raging symmetry.

There are patterns in the flames, Danny has realized, and if she keeps moving her body, her eyes can keep up with the very fast but truly memorizing trails of energy.  _This DJ is a magician_ , she thinks, and she finds that it doesn't really matter that she sometimes feels gangly and unbalanced when she dances, because this upbeat and carrying tune is lifting her limbs with grace and letting her head bob with precision. She's surprising herself with  _how totally amazing_  she is moving, and really likes that Laura seems to be feeling the same rhythm, and with just as much enthusiasm.  They hold glances often, and they started off as mock-serious, then silly, then kinda off-putting, and then genuinely smiley, and now they've moved into the territory of ' _kinda totally serious if you are_ ' vibe.

As previously mystified as Danny was by the fire just minutes (hours? lifetimes?) ago, she's doubly invested in watching Laura dance.  The harmony drops from the song and a simple beat and resounding vocals leaves Danny with a chance to say, "You're really great," to Laura, who makes a silly face and bobs her head while shrugging her shoulders, "I just do what I want, basically."

"Your dancing - "

"What? - Oh! Oh, yea that - "

"It's like, really good, though!"

"That's so great! It's all really great!"

"Yea, I - what?"

"What?"

"Wait - what did you think I was saying?"

"I  - I don't - nothing, I can't remember."

"Oh ok, haha.... I don't know what just happened," Danny distastefully places the last syllable of her awkwardness into the space next to Laura's ear. But her cringe falls when she realizes how close this conversation has brought her into Laura's space. Danny's hand is resting on Laura's shoulder, her long fingers just reaching the base of Laura's neck, and their faces are really close together. Laura smiles genuinely at Danny, and Danny can see space in the reflections of Laura's irises in firelight.

"Maybe we should ask them to turn up the speakers," Laura jokes, a little hoarsely, but Danny heard her anyway as breath upon her cheek. Danny shuffles her body in closer, a small smile lifting her eyes under her eyelashes.

Laura slides into place, and Danny has to squat down lower on her haunches, which stretches her lower back in a good way and doesn't really bother her knees like usual, and begins a low dip with perfect syncopation. Laura starts doing something mystifying and is shifting her shoulders to and away from Danny, while running her hands through her hair to keep it from her face - but slices of sunshine yellow and orange sunset keep falling across her cheek. She's been looking down between them for a few measures now, and when the beat slows, and Danny lets out a breath through her nose, Laura lifts her eyes and they swallow Danny whole. The harmony echoes as though far way, but it's coming back around, building in intensity, and Danny feels her heart jump in her chest, like it actually shifts her chest forward, and now she's chest to chest and only slightly taller than Laura's face. Laura's hands drop from her hair and grasp on to Danny's arms, which Danny feels are flexing nicely. Danny feels really strong and brave and Laura is like some darling princess in the literary tropes she grades for class - so Danny leans further in, and kisses her.

The beat drops around them, the lights, the fires, erupt in a gust of cooling winter wind, and Danny's sweaty skin nearly blisters with pinpricks of energy. Everything feels  _reallllllly gooood_  and that's all Danny can think let alone try to process what is happening. Her body responds automatically when Laura threads her hands over Danny's hair and covers her ears - it makes her feel like the world exists only around they, and the hard-hitting dueling tones are mere knocks at their window. Danny finds that twisting her hip left just as Laura hits a high note, results in Laura's heavy breathing against her lips, cheek, neck.

 

 Some time later, Laura pulls away and tucks into Danny's chest. They sway together, following a slower house beat, and Danny straightens out her leg and occasionally runs her tongue over her lips, still tingly. Inevitably their eyes are drawn back to the fire, finding it greatly diminished from what it was a few songs (hours?) ago.

They spend some time there, Laura standing in Danny's arms watching the fire bend and swirl with life. With comfort.

"This is so nice," Laura sighs, and Danny's about to agree, "But my feet are killing me. I had no idea I loved dancing so much."

"I'm overheating," Danny jumps on board, eager to follow wherever Laura goes. Laura spins out of grasp and leads her by the hand, a magical tether illuminated in orange and shadow, and Danny follows willingly up the dirt incline, rising with the hewn steps and finally reaching above the bubble of still raging dance music below them.

"Oh wow. Yea, seeing them now, I totally get why these are necessary," Danny remarks, immediately zooming towards a cloth hammock slung between two metal posts, crisscrossed and secured with heavy rope. They plop heavily into the hammock, swinging with laughter.

The warmth from the Pit rises above them, and they can trace its ascent as clouds floating against the purple-hued sky. Swaying in the hammock, watching stars tip above them, shadowed under pylons of steel curling into the sky like a rib - Laura turns her head to lie cradled in the crook of Danny's arm. Danny smiles but continues watching the sky move above them. Laura watches Danny.

She sees Danny's scar illuminated in flashes of firelight, and as it is shining, and that Laura has had a few drinks already, she reaches up slowly, lets Danny acknowledge her fingers, and swipes down her eyebrow and bridge of her nose, gently, with the pad of her pointer. This action turns Danny's head and now Laura is looking into her blue eyes, and they look sad but enticing and unsure but intense. Laura asks if it will heal. Danny replies, maybe with time.

Laura presses a kiss to the corner of Danny's mouth. She pulls a small smile away from Danny's lips. Laura leans into her again.

"You make me feel like I have an electric heart."

"How so?" Danny smiles and its the most beautiful thing.

"You just... make me buzz," Laura says into Danny's lips, and the AC current in her veins switches to DC and it tickles her fingertips and toes.

Danny pulls away softly after a moment, "That's because you  _are_ buzzed, but it's ok. I like you tingly."

" _Tingly?"_  Laura giggles and tries to shove further into Danny.

"Yea, definitely." Danny leans forward too fast and their foreheads bump each other. "Yea you definitely make me feel tingly," Danny rubs her fist at her temple.

At that moment, the sound of shuffling feet brings LaFontaine into view, gleefully dancing ahead of Josef and a few of his lot. Shuffling with precision, LaFontaine's eyes pull away from the fire to observe the hammock setup. "Oh hey dudes!" they greet, and LaFontaine high-fives Danny before grasping Laura in a hug and pulling her up from the hammock. "So those Alchemy bros are  _def-totally_  a hoot. I'm  _really_  inebriated! Dance with me!"

Danny can feel the visible pout on her face, to which Laura replies ,"I'll come back in a bit!" LaFontaine shuffles their brightly sneakered feet in the dusty trail, leading Laura ever so suggestively towards the bonfire, smaller in height now but still remarkable. Kirsch climbs the dirt staircase and he and LaFontaine both nimbly side-step each other, and if LaFontaine tripped a little, it only looked like another stylish move, and Kirsch arrives with two cups and zero spilled water.

"I'll keep ya company," he winks.

"Where's your shirt, dude?"

" _Lost._   _Gone_.  _Forgotten_. Definitely not needed in this sauna, I had to come cool off, wow."

"Still got the cape and the snapback though," Danny observes.

"Sure do!" and Kirsch cheers to Danny's health and they both drink the most delicious tasting water known to man. It slides down Danny's throat smoothly and seems to douse a fire that was burning in her mind. Kirsch finishes his cup in its entirety, belching with effort, and excusing himself right after.

Danny smiles reluctantly, before Kirsch nudges her shoulder, and she relents and laughs. She swings them both with a powerful push from her shoe, and Kirsch times the tuck of his knees perfectly, and they reach cruising altitude very quickly.

"How're you feeling?"

"With  _much_  intensity," Danny sips deeply and is reminded of her eternal gratitude for cool water.

"That great, huh?" Kirsch asks with a shoulder nudge.

"Every part of me feels totally alive." Danny demonstrates by stretching her arms and feet out to the sky. She crumbles back into the hammock's gentle swing, and watches Kirsch.  "How're you doing, brother?"

Kirsch smiles super wide, "Bro, I'm so good." He sweeps his arms out over the Pit. "Look at all these happy people. No one's sad, or lonely, or angry; they're just here, right now. And that fire!" he kisses the tips of his fingers with exclamation, "Mwah!"

"But you feel it, right? How everything is so perfect?"

"YES!"

"Like, too perfect?"

"Oh. Yea, actually. Totally."

"Something is making everyone - " Danny starts, put Kirsch waves his arms, "Nope! Quit it, it's fine, everyone's having a good time, no one's fallen in the hole, lets not jinx it!"

Danny starts to say something else, but then nods at the bonfire, "Yea ok. I get it...  _Let it go,_ right?"

"That's the spirit," Kirsch opens his palm for Danny to low-five. With his other hand, he reaches into his pocket. "In other news, I have something other than water to tempt you with, if you're interested," Kirsch mumbles a little around an electronic cigarette.

"Oh god no, you're one of those people? The smoke breathers, pretend they're dragons?"

Kirsch swirls his electric inhaler between his fingers casually, "No way, man, my cloud's a reasonable size... but I still like to pretend I'm a dragon." And he takes a deep pull, holding it in his mouth, before releasing it in two smoky plumes from his nostrils. He coughs uncool-ly afterwards, however. "It's THC oil, actually. That might have been a bit much."

"Oh, ok," Danny laughs, "Well, number one you should always introduce the substance you are indulging in, that's just proper manners, and number two," Danny snaps her fingers, "yes, I will, thank you."

Kirsch is still coughing, his eyes misting over, when he hands her the electric joint.

"I can't believe I'm using one of these, " Danny mumbles around the plastic bit, pressing LEDs and inhaling with pursed lips.

"So I'm rubbish at rolling a J, sue me."

Danny releases her smoke in rolling hills from her mouth, and inhales them slowly up her nostrils. "Now that's a dragon," she exhales out.

"Niiice," Kirsch nods approvingly, "Nice."

She takes another hit, lets it out slowly. "So this Dragoon thing," Kirsch brings up suddenly. "You think you could let the Zetas in on it?"

Danny has just a moment of clarity before her head starts to swim, "You guys didn't think to let the Sisters in on the Pit."

"Nah, we totally  _did_  think about it. But you and Laura kept going on about the Tunnel, which was great, but kinda led to a dead end, and then you wanted to keep digging into the Dean's black magic secrets - We just thought digging somewhere else was the better option."

"Hmm," Danny responds, not liking the way her hackles are on edge, giving how wonderfully happy and relaxed she was just moments ago.

"I'm just saying, in the broad sense of things - we're all in this now. And I think I've proved that the Zetas are dedicated to protecting the students."

Danny shakes her head, suddenly overcome with heat again, and an unpleasant idea in her mind. "Wait, what are you saying? Is that what this whole Party in the Pit was about?"

"No! Not all of it, anyway. But I've been wanting you to trust me for so long now..."

Danny calms herself with a moderate breath in and out of her nose. "You wanted me to... acknowledge you?"

"Yea man! This whole time! I know we're friends now, but I want you to know you can trust me, too."

"This conversation just got really honest," Danny pulls at her collar, still hot, but less confused.

"Yea, I know, that's why I brought the weed. It's for the pain in here," he points to his elbow, still healing, "and in here," he points to his head, and his heart, and then back again, as if unsure which is more important.

"All right man, I get it. But if we're thinking realistically, and speaking honestly..."

  
"Yea...?" Kirsch leans in, e-cig forgotten in his lap.

"The honest answer is that I don't think the Sisters will go for it. There's some atrocious history between us, and just because the two of us are friends doesn't mean we can coerce the rest."

"I know the Summers were the Old Guard back in the day, but the Zetas care about this school too! This is my home, I've found family here! It's stupid to let bad blood divide us when everything else is falling apart."

"I agree, dude." Danny shakes her head, "It sucks."

"Then let's do something about it." Kirsch has put his foot down, stopping their swing. Danny, lightheaded but impressed by Kirsch's passion, smiles and puts an arm around his shoulders.

"Ok, all right. We'll talk about it. We'll try it..."

"OK! Good. Wow, I feel so much lighter after getting that off my chest," and he takes another pull from his pocket weed conveyer.

The high makes Danny snort, "Seems like a lot of people got a lot of things off tonight."

"Oh yeaaaa," Kirsch laughs, "And how 'bout you, slayer? Saw you and Laura flying around the fire earlier. Getting _cozy..._ "

Danny blushes hard and presses her hands to her face, "That is... definitely an interesting development. But that's all I'm telling you about it."

"Ah man, dude! C'mon, we were just talking about trust," Kirsch says with a pout.

"There is one thing that happened..." Danny says, unsure how to string her words together to describe to Kirsch the familiarly new feelings surrounding Carmilla.

"Lay it on me," Kirsch prods.

"I think Carmilla hit on me. But not in the usual way, where she's bearing her teeth just waiting for me to try something. But like, actually... well, it was... intimate."

"What'd she do?"

"She just... she touched my face. Traced my scar. We were on her bed, Laura was in the bathroom, she came out and saw us together like that."

"And she... do anything about it?"

"Gah, no, not really - none of us did, it was just a moment and we all we in it, and then it was over, and Carmilla went back to sleep or brooding or whatever and Laura and I left."

"Well that's not so bad, I guess."

"It's not bad, no... it's confusing. Especially with Laura... who I like very much and want to keep seeing."

"But Carmilla..." Kirsch leaves open-ended for Danny's head to swim with: ... _has sharp teeth and a long rap sheet... likes to play games? ...has probably had threesomes on multiple occasions..._

And Danny has to shake her head quickly. "She vexes me."

Kirsch sputters over his cloudy exhale.  "Did you say ' _sexes me'?"_

"God, no, Kirsch! Vexes! Confuses! Frustrates!" But it's too late because now, she's already thinking about it, and it makes her neck burn and her stomach twist and she wonders if Carmilla would let her tug on her hair - Danny shakes her head again, trying to clear the fog, but the fogginess won't go and her body is still humming from the electricity of the music and after kissing Laura, she's too hot and too frustrated to -

"I like this, but it's not as good as what I used to get," Kirsch interupts Danny's breakdown, analyzing his e-cigarette. "Will was my dealer. And if there was anything Will was always good for, it was weed."

Danny can hear the nostalgia in Kirsch's voice, and it troubles her. "That still doesn't count for much as a friend. Nobody's really friends with their drug dealer."

Kirsch inhales deeply and shakes his head, puffing up and sucking in deep at the same time. In the end he can't hold it, and he coughs and his eyes water and Danny feels obliged to rub his back a little bit. She wonders idly how many other intoxicants he's taken tonight, despite his overall composure.

When he recovers, his voice is soft and it cracks and Danny realizes it's not the weed but actual feelings that are choking Kirsch. "He was by my side since day one. Not once did I think I couldn't trust him. What does that say about me?"

Danny feels ashamed at herself for her instant mental reply,  _dumb and naive._ She tries to put herself in Kirsch's place, but it's too much to think about, and in the end she just feels overwhelming sadness and pity for him.

"You can't live without making a few mistakes. He was a liar for who knows how long - but if you two were that close, who's to say he didn't feel anything for you? Look at Carmilla -"

"Carmilla's different," Kirsch shrugs off a little harshly. "She's a loner, and then she met Laura, who's great, and really anybody could love her, and then that's that. Will loved it at the Zeta House. He loved the attention. He liked feeling important, so that's what he was to me."

"Oh," is all that Danny can say, feeling lame but knowing little else would make a difference. She stops rubbing his back and leans forward over the edge of the hammock, copying his posture and staring at the ground. The awkward silence is broken by a brisk interruption from Perry - "Have either of you seen LaFontaine?"

She's appeared suddenly in front of their hammock, her sweater neatly folded over her arm, but her blouse suggesting less party time and more bed time. Kirsch and Danny both point down to bonfire, and Perry nods, before sniffing the air and giving them a cursory look. "I trust you both are making healthy decisions this evening," she says lightly, to which Danny smiles, "Nearly almost always, Lola. Safety first, right?"

"Indeed. This is quite the shindig you've thrown Kirsch. Congratulations."

"Thank you!" Kirsch's voice is lighter again, and he stands to shake Perry's hand firmly. She looks confused by the action but lets it happen anyway.

"We'll help you find LaF, " he offers, and doesn't see the face that Danny makes. "I'm quite comfortable here, actually - " Kirsch spins around and yanks on Danny's arm until she stands, and he smiles beguilingly at her.

"You owe me a dance, Summer!"

The next part of the evening blurs - they race down the path - Kirsch hardstyles with such enthusiasm that he kicks up a miniature dust storm that swirls around their legs - they find Laura, locked in a heated dance battle with LaFontaine, but LaF is obviously wining, and Laura gives up, and LaF latches onto her, and they swing around, laughing easily and looking silly - but everyone else is doing the same. Kirsch teaches Laura how to do a back flip while holding onto his and Danny's linked arms (LaFontaine throws Laura's ankle into the air and she flips right on over and lands lightly behind them). They flip and dance and jump and shake until they can't feel their feet, and they keep on moving even after. Even Perry has given up trying to extricate LaFontaine from the spree, and Laura and they both try various antics and jokes to make Perry laugh behind her cup of water. LaFontaine even gets her to jig lightly, dancing next to her and holding her waist, trying to shift her body to the beat.  The whole group cheers wildly when she gets it on her own, and it incites another round of exuberant dancing.

The mound of rubble that was once a much bigger Big Bruddha is glowing white hot at the center. It's as blinding as the sun. The biggest banger tune of the night has reached its ascendant peak - everyone is dancing, everyone is smiling, everyone is mindless -

The drop comes, the bodies go wildly with it, and the bonfire ignites to twice its size -

And everyone is still dancing in euphoria. The energy in the Pit is palpable, and palatable, and with the last measure, the last screaming tone echoing out into the crowd of bodies, a tremor shakes, and a roar erupts.

Screams follow. The music keeps going on but the dancing has stopped. Everyone is looking at each other, unsure and cautious. The fires continue to blaze in their circles.

Several agonizing moments go by.  The DJ doesn't cut the music, but lowers the speakers, as if hesitant to let go of the beat. Some people decide to run, scattered and vulnerable, sans their winter clothing and looking frantic. But most people stand still. Kirsch's ears hurt from the bass still pounding out of speakers, but he's on the left side of a Kirsch-Laura-Danny sandwich, and while afraid, at least they are together.

"I think it's saf - "

  
"Don't Kirsch! Don't jinx it," Danny hushes. Kirsch shuts his jaw, but tempts moving forward. He walks around slowly, looking at the sky, the fire, and moving around to view the chasm. His actions draw a crowd, and soon a multitude of sweaty, breathless revelers follow Kirsch to the blue and pink and yellow fairy lights strung across the lip of the dark chasm. Danny can see it remains as dark as it was before the night began, as dark as it's always been.

"So that's it?" Laura asks, a cross between wary and let-down.

"I mean, it was the biggest tune of the night - you'd expect to get some angry calls," Zane says from behind Kirsch, his torso also free of clothing and prickled with chills. Kirsch feels his skin stick when Zane presses his chest into Kirsch's left shoulder, and does a tough bro-squeeze at his right trap. Kirsch feels himself relax a little.

The DJ turns the music back up, to several loud cheers. The crowd disperses, either to leave or to dance, but Danny and Laura stand and stare at each other, running their hands over each other's faces and down arms and brushing hair behind shoulders and ears. That cloud of loneliness, the one that has been fogging around Kirsch's heart for some time, returns to him now, and so he turns away from Laura and Danny, and runs to catch up with Zane.

Throwing an arm around Zane's shoulders, Kirsch yells over the electric static of the 808s, "We should make rounds, bro, check things out. People still wanna party."

"Affirmative, bro," Zane replies, hugging Kirsch close to his side and making them walk awkwardly for a few steps, before letting go. Kirsch feels a little less lonely again. But the chill is definitely back in the air.

 

~~~~

 

"I can't believe you're gonna make me find a replacement. Again," grumbles 1980s Will, wearing a lettered Silas University jacket. He wears his hair in a small pompadour, arrogant and rebellious but still desperate to belong to something. A few years back Carmilla shaved the sides of her head, sporting a respectably sized mohawk for her nights out at underground punk shows and smoky bars. She's familiar with that yearning for peer recognition.

"I'm not making you do anything, lapdog. I'm suggesting you fix the problem before it becomes an unwanted  _circumstance."_

Will spits off the edge of the roof. "She never makes you answer for anything. She only gets angry with me."

Carmilla crushes her cigarette into the brick ledge. "Which is why I'm helping you out, little brother. Grab your rugby boyfriends and round up another sacrifice before the new moon. What Mother doesn't know won't piss her off."

A group of Summer Society Hunters runs past in formation. Their armor clanks with each step and the metal spines of their arrows gleam in their quivers. The dawn approaches.

"Why should I lie for you?  If you weren't so lazy maybe you'd stop losing your marks and we wouldn't be in this shit. You're too soft."

Carmilla bears her fangs in irritation, "There are reasons why you shouldn't cross me, new blood. You reek of callowness."

"Put those away, kitty.  I'm just trying to do our job, since you refuse to carry your own weight."

"Do you really believe that if you keep bringing sacrifices that someday you can 'retire from this nasty business'? We're her servants for the rest of our existence. We have no real freedom, and we will never leave this place."

"That's awfully nihilistic for a girl who keeps making love pets out of her meals. What was the last one, some artist from Brussels?"

"You blather of mores when you've barely broken in your baby teeth. What I do is my business, and right now you have business elsewhere. Go and find some gullible co-ed to prance happily to Maman."

Will steps up to the ledge and gazes at the ground below. "You know, if you actually cared to listen to Mother, you'd probably be that all-powerful vampire she thinks you could be. If you even put one iota more of effort, she'd reward you. It's nothing like me... It'd never be that easy for me."

Will steps off the edge and plummets, but is gone when Carmilla leans over to look.

 

~~~~

 

"If your feet really do hurt, you have to tell me, ok, and I'll get off - "

"You're fine, girl, geez! I told you I would carry you - "

"Ok, just, you can say no - "

"I say yes," Danny says, hoisting Laura higher up on her back and sprinting up the path, running between hammock pylons and people leaving the party. Laura giggles and squeezes herself around Danny, and Danny feels electricity shoot throughout her body. Until she gets to the top of the stairs, where the chill of the night is oppressive and sudden.

 "Ok, that did it. You can get off now, I'm done." Danny leans over dramatically and Laura squeals to not fall off, before Danny lowers and holds onto Laura as she slides to the ground.

"Hand me my jacket, would you?"

"Sure thing, my lovely steed," Laura jokes.

" _What a silly thing, Love is,"_ Danny quotes, dusting herself off and shrugging into her jacket.

Laura smiles, "One is better off sticking to Philosophy and Metaphysics."

"Wilde makes a good point," Danny says, leaning to hug Laura to her side.

They walk for a minute before the chilled reality of Laura's dating situation rears back around to the forefront of Danny's mind.  _She's with Carmilla... She's with Carmilla..._

"Oh, hey you two! Thought we lost you in the crowd," Laura jogs ahead suddenly and latches onto LaFontaine, who is still jig-stepping through the slippery pathway, wet with melted snow.

Perry looks back and waves to Danny. "Oh good. I was afraid I'd have to go back for you both, after that... finale."

 "Yea, what a way to end a party though," Danny looks back over her shoulder and sees some people still dancing to the music, but some of the fires at the edge of the party are being doused by teams of Zetas with buckets. Ahead of them is a river of tired and drunk co-eds, stumbling home in the cold. It makes movement slow.

By the time the path splits between off-campus housing and the dorms, the chill rattles to the bone. Laura's linked her arms with Danny, and when they say goodnight to LaF and Perry, she doesn't follow them to the dorms.

Laura walks home with Danny, huddled together against the sobering cold, and she feels both brave and scared, excited but tired, nervous but calm, whenever Danny smiles at her with just the side of her mouth. She feels conflicted, but keeps walking forward and leaves her questions in the snowprints behind them.

Later that night when they face each other under the warm cotton covers of Danny's bed, Danny smiles and says good night, and Laura, so very comfortable and just on the edge of blissful oblivion, whispers good night in turn, and seals it with kiss, firm and pouted, and feeling many things, but mostly Danny's lips, and Danny's breath comes out her nose and bristle across Laura's right cheek. With a whoosh very similar, Laura is whisked away to sleep.

Danny's thoughts keep her awake for just a few moments longer.

_She's with Carmilla_

_She doesn't seem to mind_

_Carmilla might_

_....but maybe I don't mind either._

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The DJ is me!
> 
> Oscar Wilde Quote: The Nightingale and the Rose


	11. Saturday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the Bonfire finds everyone feeling curiously refreshed. Danny and Laura get ~really close~ and come to an interesting decision. Kirsch and Zane are punished for their un-sanctioned party, and Perry comes to realize something about the Superintendent.
> 
> (Carmilla's still missing but no one seems to notice yet.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I broke this chapter into two because it kept getting longer and longer.  
> The second part ("Sunday") should be posted this week.
> 
> Thanks for all the support and comments, everyone.
> 
> Word count: 4,500~

~~Chapter 11: Saturday~~

 

Saturday morning shines bright and beautiful through Danny's window, lighting up the golden streaks in Laura's hair, tangled around Danny's fingers. They lay in bed for much longer than they should, given that both Danny and Laura have papers to write this weekend. Danny's body feels the strain of last night, but her head is mercifully clear - almost like she hadn't had a serious thought since the Bonfire. Her ears tingle as she listens to Laura's morning voice tell her with gravely giggles about the fun she had last night. Danny confides the same, finding her voice also rough from revelry.

Danny makes them tea. Laura puts a chocolate wafer she stole from the cupboard in hers. They lean close together, Laura resting her back into the sink's countertop (Danny's rather nearly sitting on it). Barefoot on the cool wooden floor, Danny explains exactly where in the forest these dark panels of old growth were harvested from, and the valors of the women who carried the wood back on their shoulders.

They smile secretly over their teacups and jam toast while another Sister ambles into the kitchen space, blearily blinking sleep away and greeting Danny with a deep nod rather than verbal communication. When she leaves, Laura and Danny laugh for no reason, and continue smiling, and after taking their time to clean-up, eventually make their way back to Danny's room to begin the study session that they both agreed was happening today, no matter what.

Danny has an excellent studying strategy, in that she's previously created a motivating and focus-enabling playlist of really chill music, and she high-fives Laura when she compliments her musical taste. Laura has pilfered the entire tin of chocolate wafers, which Danny enjoys puckering her lips around like a cigarette, waiting for the soft cookie to melt at the edge of her tongue before biting off. 

The sky outside is overcast but bright, the snow on the ground is white, the world is cemented and kept at bay by the walls of Danny's room.

 

~~~~

 

"At the end of the day, Mr. Kirsch, this is an institute for the protection and fostering of curious minds, and when an event takes place that is unsanctioned, and carries the uncertain risk of student harm, an example must be made, and someone must be punished."

"Well, don't expel Zane!" Kirsch wriggles in his seat in the Superintendent's office, suffocating with burning incense. The winter shines a refreshing white outside the window and Zane wishes they were out there, and not in here, accepting the inevitable reprimand for the Bonfire. 

Kirsch continues, even while Zane tries lamely to flag him down, "I'll take all the blame, I had help but I don't want anyone else to get in trouble because of me."

The Superintendent holds up his hand and closes his eyes in a minute cringe. "Expulsion is not on the table, Brody... neither is suspension, unfortunately."

"What is it then? What's gonna happen to us?" Zane asks.

“As requested by Administration, you’ll need to complete a round of service to the school, and as long as you comply, your GPA will remain stable."

Kirsch and Zane are quiet for a beat, and then Kirsch asks, "That's it? Community service?"

" ' _GPA will remain stable,_ ' what do you mean by that?” Zane asks, leaning forward and remembering his shameful standing in Advanced Salve Chemistry.

"You are both assigned to the Library Basement, cataloging and building data files. I’m told it will be time consuming work, therefore arrangements will be made so that any hours spent in service will not adversely affect your standings academically."

Kirsch starts to shake his head, “But that sounds more like a reward, it doesn’t really make sense - "

"Senseless or not, it's your punishment," the Super interrupts.

“And detention together is better than detention alone, I always say," Zane opens his palm for a low-five from Kirsch. Kirsch hits the mark but then holds Zane's hand in his grip. "For how long?" he asks.

"For as long as it takes," the Superintendent replies cryptically. Instead of gazing at them, the Super turns to his computer and begins typing. “Regrettably, your weekend ends now. Please report to the Library in 15 minutes. They'll be expecting you."

Zane yanks his hand down and eyes Kirsch when he looks at him. "GPA," he whispers with a shrug. Kirsch nods in a mildly bewildered way, and they both stand to exit.

"Sir," Kirsch asks from the door, "can I ask a question?"

"You may, however my answer depends on the question." The Super isn't looking at him.

"No one else is gonna get in trouble for this, right?"

"I cannot promise that," eyes still on the laptop in front of him, but his fingers have stopped typing.

"Oh," Kirsch deflates and his motion sways the door attached to his hand. "Is there a reason the Pit hasn't been sealed off yet?"

Zane comes back into the room, lingering over the threshold. The Super turns slowly, leans over his desk and holds onto his broad black forearms under his three-quarters-sleeve white shirt. "There is a reason, yes. I cannot tell you why."

"It's for the Dean, isn't it?" Kirsch holds onto the door a little tighter. "For her to come back?"

The Superintended holds an intense gaze with Kirsch for a moment.

"There are greater forces at work here, boys." He looks away from them, and then in a louder voice, once again interacting with his computer, "You are expected, Zetas. Report to the library."

Kirsch speaks finally once they exit the Administration Building and are back in the open Saturday morning air. "That was we-"

"Don't say it," Zane warns, "Weird is the normal here, so lets just be happy with what we got away with, and the fact that no one's dead and we aren't expelled."

 

~~~~

 

"I'm feeling super good, J.P.  My head's buzzing but in a good way; I feel like we're on the brink of a breakthrough."

_"Despite the obvious fact that we've perused these Summer Society collections more than twice now? And after you were out all night?"_

"Aw, Jeepers, you missed me? Too bad you couldn't be there to watch me cut the proverbial rug _,"_ LaFontaine bobs their head rhythmically while flipping dusty pages and magnifying graphite-etched pictures.

" _Indeed,"_ J.P.'s computer voice rings out in monotone. A few minutes go by, punctuating by the ticking of J.P.'s circuitry and the tapping of LaFontaine's socked foot on the wooden floor.

"You know, the Summer Society was established the same year Silas broke ground for the Lustig Building. That could be something right?" LaFontaine is closely examining an etching of an old Summer Hunter's badge, a large hawk-in-flight eyeing back at them, an axe clutched in one talon, a wreath of olive in the other. 

Despite Danny's continued insistence that the Dragoon HQ is in the Summer House nook, LaFontaine has set up shop here in the Zeta Library. Having "borrowed" some of the oldest-looking and historical-smelling tomes from the Summers, LaFontaine woke up this morning with a brain swimming in ideas, wriggling with energy in ways LaFontaine hadn't felt in weeks. There's something about the Zetas, something about the Sisters, something about Silas that is all connected, and why wouldn't it also be connected to the Pit, and Lophy?

J.P.'s ancient desktop computer beeps erroneously three times, before he announces his confusion." _In my memory banks, there is a folder from my time as Junior Records Collector in the Library... but the files are inaccessible."_

LaFontaine looks up from the Summer tome and slides closer to the monitor. "It's locked?"

" _No,"_ and J.P. opens the folder again, to another annoying beep, _"it's empty."_

"It's labeled _Solstice Sisters Ceremonies._ Is that relevant?" LaFontaine asks.

" _That's the very thing - running a cross-filter, I detected a separate packet of memories, under Unexplained Curiosities, which detailed my Second Year Self's confusion pertaining to the unlisted contents of that history record."_

"Things weren't as they seemed, then," LaFontaine heaves the book closed.  ”What was in the collection instead?"

_"I don't remember. That data is also gone."_

LaFontaine puts the tip of their thumb in their mouth, chewing on scenarios.

"Possibly erased when we were back-hacked. Possibly gone since you were first absorbed into the digitalscape. But, the records you collected, they were all physical copies right?"

_"The barbarian days of analog, yes. Musty old things."_

"There was a special place where the logs you worked on were kept, right?"

" _A vault in the Library basement, specifically designed to survive at least 3 apocalypse-level events. It was a thing of architectural beauty. And Alchemy, I'd surmise."_

"So it's probably still there, in the basement."

“ _LaFontaine, I'd strongly advise against your current mental trajectory."_

_"_ So we just have to go get it. You need a key or something?"

" _A spoken password, which has probably changed over the years - "_

"The Basement is accessible before 6, it's the sub-basements we gotta worry about."

" _I'm calculating the risk factor of such an endeavor - "_

"I wonder if Danny would help. She said if I ever needed someone with a battle axe - "

" _Miss Perry will not like this.”_

 

~~~~

 

Laura takes a break during a 3-second pause between music tracks, yawning and stretching her back to fill the silence.

"How's it going?" Danny asks.

"Very good," Laura smiles, dipping her head to Danny and gazing at her from under her lashes and long hair, smiling and gazing still as she rolls down to floor, giggling when she hits and wiggles herself into a more comfortable position.

"Oh yea?" Danny laughs, rolling down to join Laura, pushing her spiral notebook away. 

Laura shakes her head, "I don't think I've had such a clear head in a long time. It’s like I’m in hyperdrive, I finished the outline _and_ first draft of my analysis on Schrodinger's Cat theory replicated on forest nematoads."

"Wow, I'm so glad I dropped _First Level Quantum Fairy Tales_ as an elective and took archery instead.”

"Professor Erwin makes it interesting,” Laura shrugs. “Plus he's got that cute owl familiar, I’ve seen her wink at me."

Danny smiles cutely at Laura, and Laura rubs her shoulders into Danny's carpet, scratchy and warm.

They take a break, Danny making simple sandwiches, and afterward, hot chocolate, which they take sipping in the library nook. Stacked alongside piles of books and leather-bound leaflet collections are shiny shields and spears, House decorations gathered and stockpiled. 

They sit on the small half-couch, next to each other, and Laura thinks about Carmilla. With the smell of chocolate and cinnamon in her nose and the security of a fire warming her toes, she wonders what Carmilla is doing.  She tries to remember the last texts they exchanged, but finds herself distracted by Danny's laugh, following her pointing finger to the window across the room, outside of which four Sisters have started a snowball fight. A retaliation throw hits a shorter blonde-haired girl square in the face, and Laura and Danny both sputter in their cups.

"Oh wow, this looks serious," Danny puts down her cocoa and leans forward, into Laura. A woman with a crossbow just strode into view with a plump snowball cradled in a makeshift catch at the end of a short arrow.

"Cool, Hunger Games style! Let's watch,” Laura says.

Danny leans her shoulders against the window frame, and Laura stands close to her. Their sides touch whenever they laugh together at another successful hit, or a botched bail. A couple more girls in snow jackets join the battle. The chick with the crossbow is unstoppable. 

"You should join them," Laura nudges Danny. Danny smiles but shakes her head. "I'd rather watch them have fun. It's nice to see… some of them have been really scared, lately. They try to keep up a face, but I can see the cracks in the armor, so to speak.”

“Did all the Sisters go to the party last night?"

Danny uncrosses her arms and leans closer to Laura. "Yea, absolutely everyone was there. At first to make sure the Zetas wouldn’t screw up, but I think by the end of the night, we all took a much needed breath of fresh air.”

“Dancing all night will do that to ya.” Laura says.

"It's so good to see them smiling again. It gives me hope, y’know?"

And Laura sees that white knight again, the tall, strong, opinionated woman who could stand up for those who couldn't,  and watch over her friends like family, and make people feel safe and cared for, and Laura is just so overwhelmingly pleased with Danny in that moment, that she forgets about the tower of books behind her. She sways on her feet and trips over them.

Weapons catalogs and Grimm's Tales and Hunt Records and Sherlock and Alice's Adventures all clutter to the floor, but Danny catches Laura securely in her arms and Danny's hands find Laura's waist. It’s muscle memory that lifts Laura into Danny’s chest, but there’s a clarity of mind now that was missing from the night before. Laura's lips press to the corner of Danny's mouth and Laura really doesn't care if they're both on unsteady ground because she feels like she can fly when Danny runs her hand up Laura's spine and cradles the back of her neck, lifting her closer to her lips.

But they eventually do lose balance, and Danny crashes heavily into the wooden frame and lets Laura go to catch herself, and they break apart gasping, and then it's a slow collapse, the world crushes itself back around them and Danny sighs quietly. 

(What about Carmilla?)

When Danny has her breath back, she stares unflinchingly into Laura’s eyes, ”I feel like we were something that stopped before it had a chance to start.”

Laura gulps and wets her lips before answering.  “Maybe… it was just put on hold.”

Danny runs a hand through her hair.  "And what would Carmilla say to that?”

Laura is quiet. Then, "I fell for you first, you know."

But Danny leans away and looks out across the room. ”Don't say that like it's a consolation prize.”

Laura tries, as best as she can, to navigate gently. “What I mean is that, Carmilla had to earn my affections, but you... you kinda always had them. I keep surprising myself with how much I... admire you. In so many ways." 

Danny blushes a rosy pink and rubs her chin on her shoulder, her pale blue sweatshirt crumpling in little waves and its like looking at a sunset over the ocean. Laura kneels on the floor in front of Danny, reaching for her hand, ”And I don't think I can stop feeling this way.”

Danny sighs, and opens her palm for Laura to fit into. “I want you to be happy, but I can’t pretend that I don’t want it to be with me.”

“I want to be with you,” Laura squeezes into Danny’s hand. “But I love Carmilla, too.”

“I know…”

“How do you feel about Carmilla?”

“It’s not my decision at this point, Laura. You know how I feel about you. I care for her too, but she’s got some damage.”

“We’ve all got damage at this point.”

“And that’s healthy,” Danny’s eyes roll.

“It’s the circumstance. We should be allowed happiness where we can find it, Danny.”

Danny’s eyes travel between Laura’s eyes and lips.  She leans down and slowly kisses Laura, letting her fingers trace her jawline and the hair tucked behind her ear. Pulling away, she leans her forehead against Laura’s, who says in a lovely voice, “We’ll tell Carmilla; we can talk about it.”

“That can wait till later, though, right?” and Danny moves to join Laura on the floor between the stacked collections of literature and Summer Sister history.

The afternoon passes slowly.

 

~~~~

 

"Don't think; feel," the Superintendent says quietly from across his office, and despite Perry trying to listen to his advice, she clumsily drops one of the metallic Baoding balls to the carpet, and huffs. "I can't just turn my brain off."

"No, but you can breathe, and try to relax; think of intention rather than control,” the Superintendent says in a quiet, slow voice.

"But I like control," Perry grinds through her teeth, trying to force one ball to slide past the other - and watching it fall off the edge of her palm. The Super leans against his desk and regards Perry with a calm demeanor.

"Amidst all the things we can't control, there is a balance to be found. And it can be manipulated to reflect our influence. Find the balance between the two orbs, center it in your palm, and allow it to carve its own path."

" ' _Finding balance'_ ," Perry scoffs mildly, "Easier said than done, I'm afraid."

She drops one again. 

"And I'm afraid you'll be sacrificing the perfect circumference of these if I keep on like this." Perry picks up the fallen orb, blows dust from its surface, and cradles both back into their velvet box.

"Some sacrifices are easier to part with than others." 

Perry notes the change in tone and looks attentively toward him. “Sir, is there a reason why you've asked me here, besides discussing life lessons and meditation?"

The Super smiles in a gentle manner, but it doesn’t hold the same effect as usual. Perry is suddenly aware how thickly the incense hovers in the room, how dim the curtains cover the light from the windows, and how unusual it is that the Superintendent’s desktop computer isn't whirring quietly - in fact, Perry can see the power cord is disconnected from the socket beneath the desk.

”The tricky thing with balance is that it can’t be seen, only felt in the aftermath of our choices; our adjustments, as it were. Decision-making is thus a very vague process.”

“Sir?”

The Superintendent casts his eyes to his desk, where a manila folder sits thick with the printed copies of illicit emails and letters written by the former Dean of Students. Perry feels sick with the knowledge contained within. The Superintendent touches the top of the folder and tucks in the papers tighter with his fingertips before looking back at Perry.

 

“I see a great deal of good in you, Lola. I see deep compassion and trustworthiness. You've been a great, great help to me these past weeks. It's my responsibility to see that this ship does not sink, regardless of the previous captain's protocols. So for your grace under pressure, I am eternally grateful.”  He sits down heavy in his chair behind the desk before continuing, “But I'm afraid there is another transition upon us - and I can't guarantee the safety of anyone; especially for those you care about.”

 

Perry shakes her head clear of what she thinks must just be a misunderstanding.

“Forgive me, sir, but it appears my friends and I have been the only ones on this campus dedicated to safety. You cannot convince me that you nor the seemingly non-corporeal Administration authorities were unaware of the unsanctioned party in the Pit - regardless, it was the Zetas who provided for the safety of students in attendance, not the school.”

“A decision was made this morning regarding the Pit situation. But you are right, Lola, I have been remiss in my obligations to student safety. Which is why I am warning you now. This something that cannot be changed by human hands alone. It is safer for you, and your friends, to let balance run its course.”

"You're telling us to stop? After we just discovered all those emails and letters, sitting right there on your desk, detailing how this campus has been accomplice in numerous experiments and sacrifices of the student body? After everything we know now?" Perry risked life and limb for that information, and at the Superintendent's not-so-subtle request, at that!

“We are all forced to acquiesce to some things, Lola. There are some truths in this world that are too unimaginable to share with the whole of humanity. There are secrets that keep us safe."

"I used to agree, but I’ve recently learned some things that are questioning my beliefs on that."

“You are all targets, Lola. There is a cycle that must be repeated and Administration will not stop until it is completed. The monster no longer has its limbs, but it still has a head with a very long reach."

Perry tenses her shoulders, stretches her arms down, and lifts her wrists and hands erect in front of her, as if physically pushing away the Superintendent's words, " _'I'm just trying to protect you_ ,' I know sir." She sighs her shoulders back down, shifting her gaze to the side, "I've said the same many times before." 

The Super looks to his computer, scrutinizing the monitor as if expecting it to suddenly light up. He turns back to Perry a moment later.

“Truthfully, I don't work for Silas. I work for Balance. The Dark has existed for as long as the Light; they are counterparts, and one cannot exist without the other. And sometimes we must  work in the dark to reach the light again."

Perry feels anger, frustration, and doesn’t like the patronizing tone of the Super's dodgy defense. This must be the same indignation LaFontaine feels when they are told they cannot know the answer. ”You don't work for Silas but you'll still follow orders." 

"The mountain thunders, and one cannot stand in the way of the avalanche..." The Superintendent lifts his hand with invisible shackles, and Perry cringes. Her mind races, but there is one thing circulating with the presence of a deeply held thought that needs to be expressed. She throws caution to the wind, and speaks.

"Sir, I say this with utmost sincerity and concern for you…you are a coward." 

Perry turns and leaves calmly, with much more composure than she thought herself capable of, and immediately pulls out her phone to text LaFontaine, but finds they have read her mind, and just now messaged a call for a Dragoon meeting. Tonight.

 

~~~~

 

In the library nook of the Summer House, Danny and Laura have commandeered the half-couch, sitting nearly on top of each other. Perry sits in a wooden chair nearby, and LaFontaine sits with arms crossed in the chair next to her. Laura’s camera is set up across from them, and the scene is familiar as if they were all discussing plans back in Laura’s room, seemingly ages ago.

"So once again, it's the Library that holds the answers for us. I've asked us all here to vote on it. This will be dangerous - how far are we all willing to go for it?"

LaFontaine raises their hand and looks around the room.

Danny leans back and crosses her arms, "With everything that we've already done, I can't say I don't want to finish this race. I've given up the idea that this is just "one really weird semester," that will solve itself by next term."

"Yes, thank you! I'm tried of people pretending that things are just _unusually unusual_ here," Laura adds, raising her hand. She tucks herself into Danny's side on the couch, and Danny uncrosses her arms to drape one across her shoulders.

"I'm either staying to get to the bottom of things, or I'm leaving tonight. And I don't feel like packing." Danny raises her hand. "So I'm in.” The camera catches Laura’s gaze running back and forth over Danny’s face.

LaFontiane nods, "And we can assume that Kirsch will vote in the same way Danny does - "

“And where is he?" Danny asks again.

"His exacts words via text were ‘ _Too drained, brain goop, kick it lates.’_ Anyway, it’s majority rules for anyone missing with a hangover. Your vote, Perry?”

Perry raises her hand into the air, “I have a suggestion."

“Shoot," LaFontaine obliges.

“Danny, Laura, and I will go to the Library with J.P., and LaFontaine stays here."

"That sounds more like an ultimatum than a suggestion, " LaFontaine frowns.

"We need eyes and ears on the outside, don't we? The Library is covered with CCTV, which, I assume, you can hack into?” (LaFontaine nods which scratching their chin in thought) “We can’t keep walking right into traps.”

J.P. beeps from Laura’s computer and pops up in the lower half of the screen, 

_I agree with Miss Perry’s plan, as it seems the most logical. The vault is located on the first basement level but there will be obstacles. If I have access from two different points, our digital trail will be easier to cover up._

LaFontaine shrugs, “I guess that’s the plan then.”

“We go tomorrow, when the Library is least crowded,” Laura says, and Danny nods, “Lunch time. It’s Pie Day tomorrow.”

“I’ll save some for your victorious return, then,” LaFontaine smiles, and Danny gives them a thumbs up.

 

~~~~

 

Laura returns to an empty dorm that night, believing she simply missed Carmilla in passing, but bummed there are no notes. She texts her goodnight, and wakes up the next morning after a nightmare, finding no response. 

In the quiet dim of Sunday morning, Laura curls her legs into her chest, turning her cell in her hands, trying to recall the ghastly visions of her sleep. The sky outside is dark with stormy clouds, threatening but still held at bay.

The Dean was blessed with a face of unnatural beauty, but all Laura can remember is the stricken look of bloody veins behind deathly white eyes, looking up at her from the edge of the chasm, backlit with blinding light. The anger, the fear, the hatred shot straight from the Dean's eyes and into Laura's chest, seizing her heart and binding her limbs. Helpless she watches the Dean crawl, like a vicious bird of prey, talons sinking into earth, and then into Laura's foot, climbing up her body one piercing claw at a time. Laura feels her body rip apart, and then they both are blown from the cliff edge, falling fast into death.

Laura has to shake her head to stop herself from gasping again. She throws the covers off, looking forlornly at Carmilla's empty bed. She tosses the cell phone on her bed and moves quickly to the bathroom, choosing to think ahead to the mission the Dragoon Team will be attempting today.

She doesn't know that Perry takes quite a while longer to get out of bed that morning. Perry, eyes flung awake but body stone-still beneath sheets, can't shake the image of LaFontaine being ripped apart by flocks of darkness and beams of light, held helpless in midair above the Pit, with Perry falling away from them into the chasm. Perry's skin tingles with the feeling of wind whipping past her body, and her cheeks are wet with tears. LaFontaine fell asleep with headphones on again, their face blissfully relaxed and drooling slightly on their pillow. Perry spends the next 10 minutes just studying LaFontaine's face, but her body remains immobile.

 

~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo polyamory discussions and communication in relationships, am I right?


	12. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang discovers the holy grail of Silas secrets in the basement of the Library (of course). Laura finally realizes that Carmilla is like, gone? And we learn, vaguely, where Carmilla has been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 4,900~
> 
> Thank you again for your support and patience! All the plot lines are converging, the final chapters are on the way.

~~Sunday~~

 

The sky is dark at noon, and LaFontaine feels mildly guilty for enjoying the warmth of the student lounge in Laura's dormitory. A smattering of students are engaged with the Ping Pong tables and a video game dance-off contest at the far end of the room, leaving LaFontaine alone as the sole user of the room’s desktop computers. Using an algorithm mocked up by J.P., LaFontaine finds it surprisingly easy to falsify a log-in code and establish a tech-user connection to the Library facilities. A box comes up on screen, showing a security camera feed of the first floor, where Perry, Danny and Laura have just entered.

LaFontaine places a bluetooth piece in their ear and speed-dials Perry, “The Eagle has eyes, repeat, the Eagle has eyes.”

As Perry’s image lifts her fingers to her right ear, her voice sounds clear but hushed, “Understood. Are we in the clear?”

“J.P.’s not seeing anything unusual. And say ‘ _copy’_ instead, ‘ _understood_ ’ takes too long.”

“Right, copy.”

LaFontaine smiles, “ _Now_ we’re on a mission.” Checking a floor map and bringing up additional camera feeds, LaFontaine watches as the three walk with purpose through the mostly-empty reading tables towards the back of the library.

“You’ll still need to make it through the inter-space between ground level and the basement. You know how wacky it can get in there.”

“You’re sure we’ll still have reception down there?”

“If Danny can get a text from Laura in the subbasements, I’m willing to trust the signal from above them. And I’ve got access to the feeds easy enough - we’ll be fine.”

“I’m really trusting you on this, LaFontaine.”  LaFontaine smiles warmly and tries to send courage through the line ,  “You can count on me, Perr.”

LaFontaine watches as the team sneakily opens and slips through the stairwell door, tracking their progress to the lower level. As expected, LaFontaine immediately sees that some new obstacles have been added.

“Watch out, the stairs -“ 

“- are rearranging themselves as we descend, yes, we see them.”

Viewed from the CCTV in the upper corner, Danny strides with her long legs down the stairwell, catching Laura when she jumps over a gap, and holding Perry’s hand as she swings through at the edge of the railing.

“OK, we’re through, anything on the other side of this door?”

“Nothing really, except the lights are flickering on the walls - “

“… The lights have caught fire.“

“Ok uhm, yes, the extinguisher - “

“The fire is spreading, LaFontaine,” Perry reports with only a mildly agitated tone.

“On your left, Perr!”

“Got it!” LaFontaine watches as Perry points and Danny rushes to the fire extinguisher on the wall, using it to efficiently calm the flames. A window pops up on the screen and LaFontaine reads the message quickly.

“This next corridor, J.P.’s saying the floor plan is different from the original.”

“By ‘different’ you mean that the _floor_ has dropped out and there’s just a pit we have to cross?”

“Yes, that.”

“Great. We’ve got a real _Temple of Doom_ on our hands now.” Perry's rare sarcasm suggests she’s more agitated than frightened, which is good, LaFontaine thinks.

“You can use the light fixtures as handholds, these are entirely fireproof.”

While the team is busy traversing the walls, LaFontaine filters through the security feeds and sends out a viral code to make some minor chaos in the cafeteria menu, promising them more time. It’ll be an upsetting afternoon for those looking forward to Pie Day.

Bringing the security feeds back to center, LaFontaine’s heart skips a beat.

“Where are you, Perry?” 

“…”

“Perry, you there? The camera cuts out here, what do you guys see?”

“We’re here. They’re here, both of them.”

“Who?”

“Kirsch and Zane. Something’s happening to them.” LaFontaine notes the strange crackling static in the background noise.

“I have no feed, what’s going on?”

“Danny, just destroy it!” LaFontaine hears Laura shout.

“Whoa, destroy what?!” LaFontaine exclaims loudly, and the static erupts in LaFontaine’s ear, forcing them to pull out the bluetooth device. Frantic feelings rising, they search for alternate camera angles, but nothing shows the room that the team stepped into.  The corridor leading to the room flashes with sporadic light, but then LaFontaine’s headset crackles and bringing it back to their ear, LaFontaine mercifully hears Perry’s voice return, “It’s ok, it’s all right. We’re ok.”

“Perry, is there a camera in the room? I’m flying blind up here.”

“There’s nothing here except… Is that the vault?”

“Why… is it open?” Laura asks cautiously.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on??” LaFontaine fretfully runs a hand through their hair, checking the room behind them nervously.

“Perry, bring J.P. in here!” Danny’s voice calls through the link.

“LaFontaine, we’re gonna plug J.P. in - standby - “

“Plug him in where?… oh… oh whah, wow.” The voices of Perry and Danny and Laura fade away as LaFontaine reads as fast as their brain can process all of the new data popping up in screens on the desktop. 

J.P.’s image appears in the lower third. _Inter-System security feeds have been disconnected from the vault room, LaFontaine. However, I have full access. To everything._

_“_ How?” LaFontaine asks.

_I have been connected to a massive storage drive. All of Silas’ incredible history is at my digital fingertips. There is so much._

Vaguely in LaFontaine’s ear is Kirsch’s worried voice asking Danny for help, “… I don’t remember, Danny - “

LaFontaine blinks fast as J.P. floods window over window of new files of information, letters, doctrines, calendars, faculty lists, and more, covering the screen in seemingly infinite patterns, until LaFontaine can’t anymore, and focuses on the text box J.P’s writing instead:

_It will take some time to process the information, but I’ve found something worrisome. There is another digital consciousness that has access here, calling itself ADMIN._

“As in Administration? The never-seen Administration Board of Silas that no one’s sure even exists?”

_Exactly so - ADMIN holds power in all of the school’s operations and faculties, however it has no physical agents, except for the Dean of Students. I’m surmising the Superintendent is now filling that role._

_“_ LaFontaine?” Perry’s voice inquires in their ear, but LaFontaine is too busy formulating theories.

_“_ A digital consciousness…J.P., do you think ADMIN is responsible for the attack on my laptop? Are they the ones who’ve been blocking our search?”

_The facts seem to point that way, yes. Which brings us here, to a most secret outpost of knowledge, unguarded and open - I’m afraid our friends may be in danger LaFontaine, we should evacuate them from the premisses._

“LaFontaine, what do you want us to do? There’s noting in here except that huge thing that now has J.P. sticking out of it,” Perry’s voice rings again. “There’s also no heating down here, and the boys look very pale.”

LaFontaine is about to answer, when J.P. writes a very concerning sentence in front of them.

_LaFontaine, please leave my portable drive connected to the hard drive._

“J.P., no… that’s your only backup, and you’ll be unprotected down there!”

“What’s going on LaF?”

_I can assist you in much more productive ways with access to this Grail of Knowledge. If I remain, I can piggyback data onto the out-going reception signal. We can still access this information from our secured connection at the Zeta house._

“If ADMIN traces you back, you'll be trapped there.”

_Then I will make the necessary sacrifice - for my friends._

And LaFontaine feels a wet teardrop escape the corner of their eye.

_I know how to reset the obstacles on the path to ensure a safe getaway; have everyone exit now, and return to the Zeta House. I’ve already started the transfer of relevant information._

“J.P…”

_This is my most sincere and humble decision. Please, LaFontaine._

LaFontaine shakes their head and presses the bluetooth ear piece hard, “Perry, leave J.P. in the hard drive and get everyone out of there. Rendezvous at Zeta House, over!”

 

~~~~

 

Several hours later, in the cramped space of the Zeta “library,”  Laura sits half on a box, half on Danny’s thigh. Perry leans against the bookcase, stitching up a singed hole in her sweater from the Fire Hallway. LaFontaine sits next to Laura in front of Laura’s camera, where they are recording a recap of previous events.

Laura speaks in a slower tone now, as if trying to make sense of the words as they tumble out, “So, we walk into this brightly lit room, and find Kirsch and Zane just sitting at a table, looking almost catatonic. There’s nothing else in the room either, no cameras, shelves, not even a light switch. There was  a beam of light, or energy, we think, circling the guys’ heads, and it was dumping into this… kinda vase-looking urn?”

“It was like an ewer,” Perry adds with a nod. LaFontaine adds right after, “Whatever it was, it was siphoning energy from their heads, collecting it, and transferring it through the open vault to the data receiver attached to the hard drive. Which we are pretty sure is the amalgamation of _all_ of Silas’ secrets and dirty laundry…”

“And we’ve only looked through the stuff that’s relevant to _our_ situation…Some of this stuff goes _way_ back,” Laura says.

“But, we had to leave J.P.’s backup in the storage unit. He’s been siphoning data to us wirelessly ever since. The hard drive has some sort of eternal power source, and J.P. says he’s happy, so…”

Danny interrupts with a bitter tone, “How can anyone be 'happy' knowing everything that’s happened? Everything that’s gonna happen...”

Laura crosses behind her to squeeze Danny’s shoulder, then turns back to the camera, “For now, Kirsch and Zane are ok. But, when we released them, they both had that brain goop - “

“Cerebral spinal - “

“Don’t say it,” Danny warns. “You don’t know what it looked like -“ Danny has to take a breath and let it out in an angry, quiet snarl.  “They were being prepped for sacrifice. That thing was stealing - melting -  their minds; Kirsch doesn't remember the Bonfire. Zane can’t even remember our names. Who knows what we would have found if we arrived any later.”

“Danny,” Laura tries to lull, but Danny shakes her head. “I’m gonna go - I’m gonna check on them.” Laura awkwardly leans forward so Danny can extract her limbs from between boxes and bins. She squeezes Laura’s hand, which followed her exit, and says as she leans out of frame, “It’s too cramped in here anyway.”

LaFontaine scoots over to create a wobbly bench for them both to sit on, and Laura resumes, “The information we’ve found so far is… disturbing. Firstly, the collective consciousness of the first Board of School Governors digitized themselves - again, sometime before computers were invented - and they operate the school as a computer program known as ADMIN. We believe this is the thing that’s been trying to track us down, and what tried to sabotage LaFontaine and J.P. a few weeks ago.”

LaFontaine leans forward on their knees, a serious look on their face, “There’s a bunch of stuff connected with Lophy. The school was built _up_ around his fish bowl, the dude’s so old. The fish bowl is actually a portal, that divides Earth from the underworld or a different dimension or something. Lophy just sits there and every two decades swims on up to get hand-fed five human minds - They have to be bright minds, note, because I guess human genius tastes better.”

Laura cringes and holds her hands up to interrupt.

“So really, it wasn’t just the Dean to blame for the missing girls… Silas University, the very institution, is directly involved with the sacrifices. It weans out the brightest minds, and continues the tradition of keeping the anglerfish alive and fed. Which, it turns out, is kinda necessary too.”

LaFontaine rolls their eyes and shrugs dramatically. Laura continues,”That’s because its stupid, huge body guards the inter-dimensional portal, and it blocks any nasty evil demons or things from escaping onto Earth. Which is… where the Summer Society comes into play.”

Laura not-so surreptitiously checks the hallway with her eyes, before she leans a little closer, “The Sisterhood was created as a safeguard against a demon surge. They are trained monster hunters, in the event of such an… event. And I think that history came as a bit of a shock to Danny.”

LaFontaine lays out the facts. “J.P. found that missing file he was searching for - the Sister Solstice Ceremonies, which contained, among other things, instructions and battle arrangements. They’ve got a whole weapons cache hidden beneath the Summer House.”

“But of course -“ Laura raises her hands, “Danny didn’t know any of this. Only the Summer President is aware of the actual details of the Feeding, which is what they call it.”

“But the Summer President has been missing for nearly 2 years now. Something Danny was reluctant to share with us -“

”Because the punishment for betrayers of the Sisterhood is to be thrown into a volcano! These women are obviously _not to be trifled with_.” Laura's hands exaggerate her words.

“We’ve had a lot of truths come out recently. Speaking of which, I see you’re dating again?” LaFontaine asks with a mildly amused but also not-joking high-brow smirk. The left-field toss takes Laura aback a second, but she recovers enough to not just sputter her every doubt and uncertainty about her complicated love life absolutely everywhere.

“Danny and I… have come to an agreement. We just need to…” Laura’s face goes slack for a second before she changes tune, “Have you seen Carmilla?”

LaFontaine shrugs again, “No? She’s _your_ vampire girlfriend? But what, she’s missing too?”

“No it’s just… well, I don’t know, I just haven’t… It feels a little weird that I haven’t noticed how long she’s been gone. But I haven’t heard from her since before the Bonfire.”

LaFontaine grows concern on their face as Laura grows quiet. They put a hand on her shoulder, “Hey, we’ve had a couple of crazy days. You and I, we get sucked into our work, and you know how unconcerned she can be when it comes to our sleuthing.”

“Do we just keep missing each other at the dorm?” Laura wonders, her brow knitting together slightly.  

“Maybe she just took the weekend off, she’s done that before right? A little jaunt to her favorite village in France or somewhere? She’s probably on her way back right now. Let’s not… there’s been enough worry for today.”

“I am…” Laura sighs, “really exhausted.”

“Let’s wrap this up, then, c’mon.” LaFontaine shares a hearty back-pat to Laura and sits up straighter.

“OK,” Laura checks her notes beneath the screen, and clears her throat twice before beginning, “Lophiiformes could be categorized as a gluttonous being - not very intelligent but powerful and eternally hungry. But… we’ve been starving it, and there’s concerns about,“ Laura makes an awkward circle shape with her hands, “ - diameter, and body size, and things or demons that might slip through the cracks.”

“So, we’re gonna assume the kidnappings are back on, we want everyone who sees this video to be on high alert - if you see something, say something. But be advised that ADMIN is probably watching student activity very closely, so take caution when using any Silas Ethernet services like email or chats.”

“Dragoon believes that plans are in motion to attempt another sacrifice. The team here will be vigilant in the search for an alternative, but we suggest you all to gather your courage. Goodnight.”

Laura ends the program and sighs heavily into her lap, where her head droops.

LaFontaine rubs Laura’s back after a couple unsure pats. “You forgot to tell them the last one - “

“No, I didn’t. I just figured, y’know… enough worry for today.”

“It’s something we have to worry about though.”

“I know. Because that portal is gonna open one way or the other, and if the Dean’s really still alive, that’s when she’ll make her play. And I know I’m on her shit list.”

 

~~~~

 

Danny walks back down the stairs as Laura is leaving the Zeta House. 

“Oh hey. How is he?” Laura asks gently.

“Less chipper than usual… but ok. He thinks they were searching for something, says there’s a connection that’s missing in his brain.”

“He’s probably really shaken up.”

“I think we all are. My head won’t stop pounding.”

Laura brings her closer, holds her thumbs to Danny’s temples, and kisses her. Danny, still with one foot on the first stair, steps down and leans her hands onto Laura’s waist. The kiss is light but the pressure at her temples is deep and Danny has to chase after her breath when she pulls away..

“Any better?” Laura smiles slightly.

“My heart’s pounding now,” Danny returns. “But, yea, better.” Danny stands back up and places her arm around Laura’s shoulder. “C’mon, I’ll walk you home.”

 

The walk seems shorter than usual, but just as chilly in the night air. The recent snowfall is receding but still covers the quad in a placid blanket of white. The dorms are lit with warm windows, save for Laura’s third floor room. Danny’s not sure how accurate an indication that is of Carmilla’s whereabouts, so she looks down to Laura, and finds she has a crinkle of worry marring her brow.

“I haven’t heard from Carmilla all weekend. You were with me the last time I saw her, before the Bonfire, and she was in a weird mood that night, remember?”

“Yea, I do… Try calling her?” Danny tries to be helpful.

“I tried just after giving the report, it went straight to voicemail.” Laura shakes her head, “If she’s been gone this whole weekend…”

Danny holds her tighter to her side as they walk, close enough to almost trip her off her feet. “Let’s go check out the room, then.”

But the room is as empty of Carmilla as it is of light. Laura sighs heavily and drags her self to flop on her bed, leaving Danny to flood the room with electrical light. 

“Nothing seems out of the ordinary…” Danny ventures.

Laura flips herself over on her bed,  bounces off of it, and searches around Carmilla’s bed and the kitchen as Danny watches her contemplate, “She’s been moody and somewhat unresponsive when I ask her whats wrong. But we haven’t fought, really. I can’t imagine that she just.. she wouldn’t just leave…?”

Danny moves into Laura’s space, “Hold on there, now - calm down.”

“What if she left because… because of us?”

“Stop, Laura, you don’t know that. Look, all right? We know that Carmilla is emotionally variable and strong as hell; she does all right on her own.” Danny tries to encourage Laura but her head still looks down.

“She’s like a cat, y’know? They leave, they come back, it’s whatever - “ She tries to chase Laura’s chin with her hand, grasping it between her fingers lightly, making Laura giggle softly. Lifting her head up, Danny says softly, “We’ll figure it out tomorrow, yea? We need some rest tonight.”

“Are you staying?” Laura asks, and Danny leans down to kiss her. “I’m gonna crash at mine tonight, love. You don’t need my unconscious limb-flailing keeping you up. Sometimes I like to starfish.”

Laura smiles and tucks her hair behind her ear, “Yea, I know.”

Danny steps back but squeezes Laura’s arm before she leaves, “The night’s still young, for some of us. But you can call me first thing in the morning if she doesn’t turn up.”

Through her dorm window, Laura watches Danny walk through the blanket of white towards the Summer House. When she’s gone, Laura’s eyes float up to the pockets of clear sky between the clouds.

“Where are you?” she asks the stars. No one answers her, of course. She skips the shower she probably needs and falls heavy with exhaustion onto her bed.

 

~~~~

 

Decades ago and many nautical miles farther north than Carmilla’s current position, storm-grey seas crash loudly against sheer cliffs, volcanic in origin and steadfast against the erosion of time. From afar the scene is a mix of subdued colors: wet mossy green, stone-gray, splattered off-white with feather and guano. The sea below is the darkest that blue can be before it becomes black, the sky is silver with overcast daylight but darkened by the flight of a thousand seabirds, cawing and shrieking in the cold air of the Hebrides Isles. It is as wild as can be, untamed by human hands and resistant even to the clawing of weather.

Within a fortress built high into the volcanic seamount, howling winds echo through stone hallways and ricochet off closed, very-old-wood doors.

“I’m bitter with cold,” Carmilla complains at Mother’s side, wrapping her dark shawls closer around her shoulders.

“You’re bitter because I tore you away from that little painter in Venice.” Mother keeps walking, as though quite familiar with this old and sorrowful place. “Ever since Paris, you dream while waking and latch onto the most fleeting of passing fancies.”

“You taught me to be charming.”

“You’ve always been charming, my girl. Too charming, even, and you know I celebrate your marvelous thirst for knowledge, but your tendency to fall prey to human emotion costs you focus. Look, how you float here next to me, barely aware of my advice.”

“I’m listening, Mother.” 

Carmilla follows with a lazy gait, two steps behind Mother, testing how far her eyes can see through the hovering storm. Regardless of the tempest, the birds still flock and fly, incessant in their cries. A viewing walkway, hewn into the Lewisian gneiss, overlooks a swirling and cacophonous whirlpool, a mile below. 

“Eyes up, Carmilla. This may be a journey you make alone someday. There are rules to be followed.”

The entrance hall they arrive in is etched from stormy sea cliff and cemented by time and salt. A cold unseen wind bursts through, lifting Carmilla’s shawls around her body. She is shrouded in shadow behind her Mother, cloaked and imposing as the mountain itself. 

A dark man enters the stone hallway, wrapped in white and gold cloaks. He wears small-framed eye-glasses and were it not for the frown upon his features, may otherwise hold a quite gentle appearance. Catching sight of Mother, he stops just outside the large dark wood doorway, and readjusts his robes at the collar. He takes no steps further towards them. 

Mother’s eyes pique in interest, “Ah, so the Angel is here as well.” She glides toward him but speaks quietly to Carmilla over her shoulder, “We’ll be audience to a long-winded discussion about _Great Balance_ and the futility of all our efforts. He’s nearly always opposed to a little bit of chaos; he can be a real bummer.”

The man stares ahead of him, looking out to sea. He holds something in his hand, close to his hip, and Carmilla suspects a weapon of some sort. Mother slides soundlessly next to him, addressing him without greeting.

“Surprising to see you here, so far from your rice paddies and secluded mountain temples. The Council must be in very dire straights to call upon the Eastern reserves.”

“There is great Change in the air, you must have felt the shift.”

“Nothing quite so earth-shattering has befallen my region. I see this meeting as more conjectural than necessary.”

“Truly it is not - what of the upheaval in the West?  One hears the murmurings of war in the Slavic countries.”

“Just the dying gasps of Socialism; a pipe dream spiraling towards its self-made end.”

“A shrine was destroyed by bomb testing - evil spirits escaped and communities are at risk. There is a great deal of malicious misanthropy in this region, I’m afraid.”

“Spirits,” Mother scoffs. “Wisps of ill-content and occasional trouble-makers. Regardless,  humans are constantly at war with themselves, threatening their very homes and neighbors. It is the evil in humans we should be more worried about. Spirits, creatures, gods and Agents - we’ve all been around long enough to know better.”

“I’m not sure I would agree.”

“How old are you, then, Angel?” Maman asks with bite. The man gives a small, tight smile, and raises his hand to reveal two orbs, swirling and clinking metallically against each other. After a cycle, he replies, “Age is but a number, but I can grow wings, if that gives you a better idea.” His cloak flutters behind him, and Carmilla’s eyebrows pique up.

“Flight is a lovely thing, isn’t it?” Maman turns sideways slightly as if to indicate the view and seabirds outside, but Carmilla sees it more as a defensive stance.

Seemingly the conversation has come to a standstill, and the unnamed black man, the un-winged Angel with the Chinese meditation balls, gives a tight smile like a grimace, nodding his head down and taking a step right to indicate his preoccupation with the view. Mother turns left and sweeps Carmilla with her to the stone-carved balustrade. They gaze out at the storm as another gust ruffles their clothes.

“You will become stronger with time, Carmilla, but that does not mean you can waste away the years chasing after lofty ideals. There is work to be done and all too often there will be challengers to your order.”

“Can there be no compromise?” Carmilla asks, watching the Angel close his eyes and relax his face, twirling his meditation balls again.

“That is why the Council gathers here. But it is a difficult business, overseeing the stability of the world. With Knowledge comes the ability to see what is ephemeral and what is permanent.”

“A human life is impermanent, then. All the bombs and warfare are just means to an inevitable, ghastly end,” Carmilla growls, daring to look Mother in the eye.

”Discard your empathy. They do not deserve it. “

“You took empathy on me, once.” 

Mother shakes her head, “You still cling so tightly to that dead heart in your chest. The world lays open before you, yet humanity remains your drug of choice.”

“It is love that I cling to.” Camilla replies, rubbing her anchor necklace between her fingers, but Mother takes her hands and presses them into the cold stone barrier.

“It thoughts like these that keep you tethered to the ground, my dark starling. You are meant to fly.”

And before Carmilla can respond, the signal is given, a strange resounding siren that cuts through the bird calls and wind. The heavy doors creak and grind against the stone floor and archway, and Carmilla can see a handsome round table in the next room, and the dim, cloaked appearances of three figures at the opposite end.

“I will call for you when we are finished here,” Mother says, sweeping her cloak behind her and standing her full, intimidating height. “If you get hungry, you may stop by that small village we passed along the coast.”

The ghost of Mother’s memory is blown away by the sudden howl of wind through the cliff side, bruising Carmilla’s skin with cold. The cave she rests in offers little protection from the winter rains, but she ventures no further because she doesn’t have the strength to fight a hibernating mother brown bear, its huffs of sleepy breath grunting along the cave wall. Halfway to the Austrian border and still miles more until Silas, Carmilla’s feet and hands ache with the journey. The sudden trip to the Croatian coast yielded success, albeit Carmilla still has no idea what use the treasure of a dying blacksmith would have against the creature that survived the Blade of Hastur…

There is a memory, hazy but coherent in her mind. The dive into the Pit, reaching out for Ell’s apparition, the blinding light and the feeling of weightlessness - it comes back to Carmilla in flashes. Ell is gone, there is no anglerfish. It’s only Maman standing, floating in front of her - and then her arm quivers, shakes, as the legendary Blade of Hastur, the unbeatable weapon, shines with golden-white light, before bubbles of darkness pop off and evaporate, and from tip to hilt the sword dissolves. So too, does Carmilla’s resolve.

Anger, frustration, helplessness and guilt bubble up in her now, stretching her to capacity until she cries out, holding her hands to her eyes and knocking her head back against the rock cave.  For one so accustomed to the unforgettable memories she’d rather be rid of,  not knowing the truth of how she survived is driving her insane. Like there is a great mystery being kept from her that is the key to not only her own survival, but Laura’s, and Danny’s, and the whole of that damn campus of sacrificial sheep. Her dreams, her visions, point her to seemingly unrelated clues, but the more she tries understand them, the further she finds herself from Laura. With her head now aching just as her paws, she makes the decision to pass the burden to someone more worthy than she, so that she may crawl home to Laura and maybe try again to convince her to elope.

Transforming with a sigh, Carmilla grabs the small parcel in her jaws, feeling the weight of a Hero’s burden and finding it distasteful.

~~~~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The outer Hebrides Isles off of Scotland are really something to behold. The last scene was entirely inspired by a nature documentary I saw on Netflix.


	13. Carmilla's Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmilla returns. That's the biggest thing, in this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Carmilla/Laura ~relations in this chapter, get ready.
> 
> Word count: ~5500
> 
> Thank you for your patience, and I hope you're still enjoying this super long ride. It's almost over I promise.

~~ Chapter 13: Carmilla’s Return ~~

 

Danny wakes in the pre-dawn to her phone ringing. 

“Laura?”

“Did you get my messages?” her voice is even and quiet.

“Wha - no, I was sleeping, sorr- “ And Danny reads 6 texts, some of which include

_12:03 a.m.I found her phone under her pillow, turned off._

and

_1:26 a.m. So that broadsword she kept in her duffel is gone._

_“_ You went through her things?” Danny's ask with sleepy disapproval.

“Three days, Danny! She’s been gone and no one noticed, how could I _not_ have noticed? It's something I missed and now she’s off somewhere and she didn’t… I have no idea if she just… finally left…”

“Hold on, ok?” Danny coughs, trying to clear sleep from her throat. “I really, really doubt she’s left you, Laura. She’s become pretty predictable when it comes to you.”

“She wouldn’t have left without all her stuff. Right? Her Parisian travel guide is still on top of my bookshelf.”

“And she doesn’t have much else. Look, I’ll be over in a bit and we can work this through together.But I need to do my run first, ok? It’ll help me think.”

“Yea, ok. I hope you find some better ideas out there than the ones that keep circling my head.”

“I’ll be there with you soon, Laura.”

 

 

Danny finds herself trying to shrug off guilt as she shrugs on her jacket, trying to tie her resolve to her shoestrings and setting off due south to gather fresh air into her lungs.

She remembers the last time she and Carmilla spoke, and how the vampire’s words were so close to her face she could feel the breath that carried them kiss her cheek. Danny’s scar across her nose has mercifully healed to just a pink discoloration now, but the feeling of Carmilla’s fingertip tracing the skin burned almost as much as the first infliction. Something in Carmilla’s eyes was so foreign yet familiar to Danny, and she remembers yearning to fall deeper.

So there’s no doubt that Carmilla’s been acting strange lately. Or at least, in a new way. Danny could believe rumors of Carmilla running through a sexual concourse of romantic entanglements in her heydays, but she’s not sure if she herself would qualify as Carmilla’s type… since they were nearly enemies not long ago.

Danny remembers the vulnerability she saw in Carmilla in the tunnel. Remembers the sincerity of Carmilla’s words in the dark, and the feeling of oppression under a monster that also called herself Mother. Danny felt pity, and for a moment, the familiar desire to want to protect this wounded soul… but Carmilla’s usual callousness rebuked her, and left Danny as mildly frustrated and definitely confused as before they set off into the woods together.

So Danny shakes her head and shoulders, dusting off the chill of the morning.She runs along the edge of the campus woods, the road wet with melting snow, and it's around the curve of a particularly large Balthrun ash tree where Danny nearly sprains her ankle as she slides off course, trying to avoid colliding with a black-clad and bored-looking Carmilla.

Carmilla looks like she belongs here in the darkness just before dawn. Her blackness softens at the edges and fades into the surrounding pre-light; her dark hair frames a half-moon face as one eyebrow lifts up delicately to regard Danny, staggered off to the side and trying to control her breathing.

" _Dobro jutro_ ," Carmilla's voice prowls a little lower to the ground than Danny remembers, but that doesn't really phase her now because Carmilla is here and alive and not missing and -"Where the _hell_ have you been?!"

"Took some time down the coast. I brought you back a big kid toy," and Carmilla tosses something heavy and wrapped in course cloth at Danny. She clutches the object in a fist, her breath coming out in clouds, "I hope you've got more than just a souvenir to explain your absence to Laura. You have any idea what’s happened to us this weekend?” 

“Is everyone still alive?” Carmilla asks with nonchalance, and it irks Danny.

“Yes, but it’s not like - “

“I will speak to Laura.”

Danny’s emotions are haywire and she feels like she needs to cover up her still fast-beating heart with her words. "Just going missing like that is not ok, ok?! Where the hell did you go?"

"Chill, sprocket, you're blowing hot air as it is. It was an unavoidable business trip, nothing nefarious. Mostly."

Danny huffs out her annoyance and looks past Carmilla to the tree line. ”You’re really not gonna tell me?” She puts a hand on her hips and her eyes back on Carmilla, who gives a little nod to the thing in Danny’s other hand.

"How about you just open that and we'll get this mystery solved a little quicker, hmm? I've got places to be, apparently."

Carmilla looks off towards the dorms, and Danny only starts to untie the strap of the bundled object because her fingers are losing heat quickly. She scratches them against the course fabric and pulls it apart to unsheathe a ridiculously ornate silver dagger. It's an impressive thirteen inch blade attached to a seven inch handle, a seemingly singular slice of silver ore crafted into one of the finest things Danny has every held in her hands.

“What is this?” Danny asks, inspecting the beautiful silver-red hematite orbs inlaid in the handle.

"It's yours. Keep it close,” Carmilla drawls. Danny looks at her and finally notices the sword she's been carrying at her side because she lifts it to curl onto her shoulder, jutting her hip out and just looking goddamn heroic. 

"I can't have this, I don't wanna -“

"Owe anything to me? You don't - this is my repayment." and Carmilla's voice is harsh but her eyes lack her normal fire, so Danny swallows and shakes her head, before locking eyes with Carmilla. “You don’t owe me anything, either.”

”You dug me out of supernatural rock with a Swiss army knife. This will at least get job done faster next time."

"There better not be a 'next time.' " Danny still holds the dagger a small distance away from her. Carmilla drops her broadsword from her shoulder and crosses Danny's path, not looking at her.

"Danny... you brought me back to her..." 

"You were gone, we thought you were dead. You came back to her on your own."Hearing Carmilla speak her name, and seeing her smile sadly now has thrown Danny so much she feels a little light on her feet. Carmilla slides her gaze out across the field leading to the dorms.

Danny steps forward and lightly grabs Carmilla’s forearm, letting go when Carmilla’s eyes are brought back to her. Scrutinizing the shadows and light in her irises, Danny realizes something profound. There’s much that's not said and yet acknowledged between them, and just like the night of the Sacrifice, they simply nod in understanding of each other.

Danny looks away first, because the weight of the dagger in Danny’s hands is less heavy than Carmilla’s stare. “This is insanely gorgeous,” Danny says, admiring the way the silver shines brightly with the rising gray of morning skies.

”That blade is special. The only caveat is that you keep it with you always. Can you do that?"

"I... Ok. Yea, I can do that." And Danny feels her spine stretch her taller and the weight of the weapon lay reassuringly strong in her hand. 

"Good. Now, I'll let you return to your mindless running about," Carmilla hoists the broadsword over her shoulder again and makes to move past Danny.

“You’re going to see Laura?”

“She’s the reason I came back, isn’t she?” Carmilla says as she trails a hand on Danny's shoulder when she passes. 

 

~~~~

 

Carmilla’s return to dorm room 307 is less triumphant celebration and more endless tribulation.

"Laura, please, I just want sleep..." Carmilla sidesteps Laura and sinks to her mattress.

Carmilla really does need sleep, she's been awake for the these past 3 days and Croatia, though lovely, is fucking far without a modern mode of transportation (trains? no. planes? hell no.) and while part of her definitely wanted to enervate herself by running there, after awhile she couldn’t keep her feline form on the way back, and had to hoof it back on two legs instead of four. So Carmilla is wiped. No matter her suave entrance (Laura finding her leaning a hand upon the dorm room threshold, Carmilla swooping in to first greet Laura’s lips, before she even got a word out); Laura was appreciative of the kiss, but soon remembered her anger, demanding quite explicitly, “Where in all of _heck have you been?”_  

Carmilla’s answer, “Simply the best chocolatier in Styria,” was not totally satisfactory, and neither was the precious gift she bestowed into Laura’s palm, a decadent German chocolate truffle the size of a small bird. “I’ll take you there sometime, Cupcake,” she kissed into Laura’s cheek.

But Laura turned and followed Carmilla to the bathroom, letting loose her parade of questions, even through the closed door. After her shower, Carmilla tried for distraction again, but asking Laura about the bonfire led to a sudden spike in Laura’s already elevated pulse, moving her to emotion so much that Carmilla could hear the blood rush pump through her heart. Carmilla turned to excuse then.

“I’m exhausted and hungry, can we just not talk about it right now?”

“I need to talk about things, Carmilla! I had no way of knowing you were ok, how did you think I was gonna react? After our history of kidnappings, which, by the way, are starting again.”

“I wasn’t kidnapped, the trip just took longer than expected - “

“A _trip_ is something people plan in advance, and usually tell their loved ones about, Carm. And you gave Danny a dagger? There’s ton of sharp things at the Summer House, why did you have to _travel unexpectedly_ to get a knife that isn’t even relevant to our situation - “

“It is - “

“And yet you won’t tell me how - “

“Because I don’t know how exactly, but it’s gonna keep you safe!”

Laura scoffs in anger and turns away from Carmilla, knocking her pillow off her bed and to the ground. 

“I’m never going to be truly safe - no one is, and that's the cruelty of being alive. I’m an incredibly fragile human being, and that means I need to make the most of every experience I can have.” She turns back to Carmilla, seemingly less energetic and more sad. “If I can be in love, even if its not forever, and even if it won't save me from whatever end may come - I best take what life offers me.”

"I'm trying to protect you,” Carmilla says through fatigue, and from her position seated on her bed, tries to reach for Laura’s hand. But Laura moves away and scoffs again.

"Why am I the only one who seems to think that _protecting people_ shouldn't mean hiding the truth from them or keeping them away in a Rapunzel-tower of obliviousness?!”

Laura’s voice is harsh in Carmilla’s ears. “Look, if I knew the truth about all of this, I would tell you - “

“No, you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t Carmilla, because as much as you love me, you don’t trust me. You don’t trust anyone. And that’s whats gonna leave you alone, in the end.”

Carmilla’s face darkens and the space where her heart used to be feels icy as the chill outside. She stands quickly and is at the door before Laura can blink.

"I'll be sleeping somewhere else,” and with a _slam,_ the door falls off its top hinge and rests precariously against the doorframe, letting in the hallway light.

 

~~~~

 

Carmilla knows she is dreaming.

She’s walking in a dark tunnel, and Mother, like the ever surrounding darkness, is everywhere and nowhere at once, speaking to Carmilla in hushing and dismissive tones.

Knowledge and truth lie ahead, Mother keeps telling her. Power and security are guaranteed. 

_You’ll waste away, here._ She is right.

Carmilla is running, there is blackness in front of her and nothingness behind her. A flash of red catches her eye, the scent of blood prickles her starving body.

Carmilla has passed a hole in the ground, a small pit, where Danny’s red hair blows with a nonexistent wind as she clings to the edge of the earth by the hilt of her dagger, embedded in too-soft rock.

“Carmilla, help!”

Carmilla drops to the ground, reaching for Danny. “Where’s Laura?” Carmilla asks desperately.

“She’s here, I have her.” Laura’s unconscious body hangs from Danny’s other hand, gripping a maroon scarf wrapped around Laura’s neck, hardly stable.

_Discard your empathy, Carmilla. Leave them._ Mother’s voice chills the air.

“I will stay!” Carmilla argues against her mother, pulling Danny by the forearm but struggling with Laura’s added weight.

_You will rot._

Carmilla feels the truth burn in her bones.

 

~~~~

 

Theafternoon sun peaks from behind grey clouds and enters the wide windows of Danny’s room. A ray of bright light elicits a pitiful moan from the lump of covers on Danny’s bed, giving Danny a clue as to her intruder.

“Carmilla, what are you doing here?” Danny asks as she puts down her books from class and hangs her jacket on the back of her desk chair.

The response is another sleepy groan, so Danny sits heavily on her bed and pulls the covers from Carmilla’s head. “So, she kicked you out?Told you she wasn’t gonna be happy.”

Carmilla rolls away from her and hisses into Danny's pillow. "I left of my own volition."

"Sure ya did.”

Carmilla doesn’t respond so Danny gets up and finishes unpacking her study materials.

“I’ve got to finish these peer reviews before dinner, so you can stay as long as you’re quiet.”

Carmilla stays silent. Danny turns the light on at her desk, sits down and links her socked ankles beneath her chair, settles in.

 

A couple hours later Danny lifts her head and cracks her neck, reaching her fingers up to massage the muscle. Turning her spine in her chair to readjust, she catches sight of Carmilla, wrapped in Danny’s sheets, with only her open eyes and her dark hair peeking over the cotton.

“What?” Danny asks, intrigued by the way Carmilla’s eyes follow the stretch along her neck.

“You could invest in softer sheets.”

Danny smiles at the crook of her mouth, “Complaining will get you kicked out of my bed, too.”

“Just a suggestion,” Carmilla drawls, stretching her arms above her head.

Danny moves her chair around to kick her feet up on her bed, reclining back and crossing her arms to survey Carmilla.

“What’d she say?” Danny asks, knowing the ‘who’ didn’t need to be established. Carmilla sits up and lets the sheet fall off her shoulders. 

“Probably what you expect; I made a mistake in not telling anyone, she made sure I knew it… she thinks I don’t trust her.”

Danny shrugs gently, ”Do you?”

Carmilla looks Danny right in the eyes, somewhat shocking in their sincerity. “I’ve trusted her with more of myself than I think is wise.” 

Carmilla sits further up against Danny’s bed frame, curling her legs and creating landscapes of sheets between them.

“Well you didn’t trust her with this. And disappearing like that, it’s suspicious. But truth be told, the whole weekend has been suspicious. Something intense happened at the Pit. There’s been a lot of… energy around the place, since then. Palpable, y’know?“ Danny tries to hold a tangible weight of the so-called energy between her hands, but finds the gesture useless. Carmilla’s face twitches.

“Perhaps it was lucky I was gone, then.”

“Still doesn’t excuse you. But a lot’s happened in a short time… maybe we just need time to process it all.“ Danny hopes Carmilla can’t read the guilt and uncertainty she feels tightening in her shoulders. “Laura will cool off in a while, and we can talk about… things.”

Carmilla’s eyebrows quirk. “You’re giving me girlfriend advice?”

Danny sucks in a breath between her teeth. “Weird weekend, like I said.”

A quietness passes between them, in which Carmilla considers Danny’s bed sheets some more, and Danny stretches other parts of her achey body. Carmilla pushes the covers off and slinks over to hang her legs off the foot of the bed. Danny gets the feeling she’s about to share something, so she nods attentively. 

“It was Ell who told me to go.”

“Ell? The girl you jumped after in the Pit?”

“She appeared to me in a dream, and that's never happened before. I learned where to find the dagger. A Croatian blacksmith, living in the cliffs at Omiš.”

“Did you kill him?”

“Let me finish?” Carmilla replies with the same mildly sarcastic tone. “His clan has a history of sealing portals and vanquishing spirits. I assumed I was in the right place. When I told him I came from Silas, he practically gifted the dagger to me. He was dying, with no heir.”

“So this dagger basically fell into your lap?”

“I was led there. I believe Ell is telling me that this is the Arm that was lost in Croatia centuries ago.”

Danny’s face scrunches up in mild disbelief, but she leans back to her desk and opens the sliding drawer, gently cradling out the leather-wrapped dagger. She needs to find a sheath for it, as its delicately carved arabesque design looks too beautiful to just hang at her side. The weight feels cold and full in her hands, her eyes trace the intricate patterns in the blade, and the silver-red hematite glowing in the hilt under the lamplight.

“It’s impressive enough to be something important like that. So maybe it’s a weapon against the Dean, or Lophiiformes. But you went all that way, and you’ve obviously got some unresolved Mom issues too - why give the dagger to me?”

“I gave it to you because I think you could use it.” Carmilla is leaning forward with her head hanging between her shoulders, as if the weight of keeping her head up is bothersome. But her eyes bore into Danny’s face.

“And you couldn’t?”

“It doesn’t suit me, this heroine business.But you seem to thrive on it.”

“I never said I wanted to be a martyr - “

“Your actions speak otherwise, Summer.”

“I want to protect the people I care about. And so do you.”

Carmilla stands and stretches her arms down behind her back, cracking her neck. With a sigh, she agrees, “It’s a troublesome business, caring for others.”

Danny gives her a small smile. Carmilla nods to Danny’s bedroom door.

“I’m starving, Red.”

“Let’s go see LaFontaine, and their hospital connection. I’ll tell you what happened at the library on the way.”

 

~~~~

 

The Super inhales in long, slow breaths. In his meditation he exists within a grand nothingness - a space both full and empty at once.

A computerized voice echoes around him. ADMIN asks, “ _Do you have an answer?”_

Keeping his breathing simple, the Super just continues to meditate. The space around him flashes with lines of zeroes and ones. A binary boundary keeping him trapped.

_“You cannot avoid the issue forever, Superintendent. You will do as we command in order to reset the cycle and balance the scales.”_

Opened mind, opened Eye, the Super repeats internally.

_“We want the student called LAURA HOLLIS. She is the broken link in the chain that is deteriorating our defenses. Sacrifice the lamb to slaughter and RESTORE THE SUCCESSION.”_

The Super opens his eyes slowly, blinking as his world becomes a void, and he releases the breath he was saving for nirvana into the purgatory he finds himself in now.

“You kidnap my consciousness and order me to make precise decisions affecting the course of humanity and of this institution. You speak to me in ways inappropriate for the great difference of power between us. I do not heed your commands, Governors, because I do not _work_ for you. My power and my privilege work for a force far superior and the actions that I take while here are of my own accord, and reflect what I see as the proper course.”

The world around him crackles with electricity and static. ADMIN materializes windows of images, filled with screenshots of campus security feeds, collected from the cafeteria, the library, the corridors between classes. Laura Hollis’ blurry image is blown up to fill an entire screen, which floats obnoxiously in front of the Superintendent’s face.

“ _It is not the place of a mere human mortal to muck the plans of higher orders. This girl is a problem that must be dealt with.”_

"Then call upon your reserves and find the girl yourself."

_“There are no reserves, it is we and you that remain to safeguard the equilibrium. You must obey or face the consequences.”_

“Restore me to my corporeal vessel, Govenors. We are done here.”

“Capture the girl!” ADMIN yells through the void, dissipating and disappearing from around the Super.

The Super blinks open his eyes. He watches as the last binary digits burn and float off his fingertips, setting his body and mind back into Earth’s plane. He sits at the Dean’s desk, her fried computer sputtering the last electric gasps that ADMIN surged into it, in order to steal him into the digital scape. He knew it would be risky and quite probably unfruitful to attempt to snoop in the Dean’s office, after Lola and her team of well-meaning misfits managed to set off one of probably many security fail-safes - but he came anyway, Lola’s calmly delivered cold one-liner echoing in his head: _You are a coward._

He admits to himself that he would be very sorry to see Lola Perry suffer a violent death. He would even dare to say he found a sort of kinship with the bright young woman. But as is usually the case with humans, she has several loved ones. All of whom are currently being hunted by Silas Administration, regardless of their academic status within the institution. The Superintendent just believes it slightly unfair, and he means always to act in the hand of Balance.

_For Balance,_ he repeats again, stepping away from the Dean’s desk and casually flicking the dead computer as he passes, sending the hunk flying to crash into side wall, shattering a random artifact of the Dean’s. The destruction gives him a quick swelling of pleasure, before he clears his mind and clears the room.

 

~~~~

 

Laura looks behind her when she hears Carmilla make a slight cough - like an awkward, tiny mewl that precedes her slow entrance. Evening darkens the window outside, but Laura’s owl lamp sets a warm glow in the shared room.

“I’m back,” she announces needlessly, and Laura turns around fully in her chair.

“I’m sorry,” Laura says quickly, then takes a breath. “I didn’t mean to snap at you like that.”

“I hear people are blaming their behavior on the Pit. Let’s just do that and move on,” Carmilla suggests, slinking to Laura’s bed. She sits on the corner and reaches a hand for Laura to hold.

Laura pulls her closer and kisses her deeply, “I’m glad you’re back.”

Carmilla smiles and continues the kiss, running her hands lightly through Laura’s hair, falling down her neck, massaging into her shoulders. Laura breaks away and shakes her head with her eyes closed. “My heart _ached_ when I thought you were dead. When I realized you had been gone, I didn’t want to let myself think it, but there were moments were I thought the worst.”

“At the time I thought I was saving you from distraction. I made a mistake.”

Carmilla leans away from Laura, sliding back on her bed, beckoning Laura with a silent pull of her hand. Laura follows and lays against Carmilla’s chest.

“I went to Croatia, a city on the coast, called Omiš. I’ve had some bizarre dreams lately, but I saw the dagger, felt its weight in my hand, and I knew exactly where I would find it. I don’t rightly know whether the journey was for any gain or not. But it has granted me certainty on one matter.”

Laura has snuggled into Carmilla’s chest, lifting her gaze to address Carmilla’s chin.

“And what is that?”

Carmilla slides beneath Laura, lifting her head further with a light graze of her fingers. “I have a _deep_ adoration for you, Laura Hollis. While I was away, all I wanted was to be nearer your heart. All I want is to be here, with you.”

Laura’s eyes shimmer from being held so attentively open, leaning in closer with every breath of beautiful word from Carmilla’s lips. Finally, Carmilla feels the entirety of Laura’s small weight through the connection between their bodies. Laura pushes into Carmilla and pulls her closer, making Carmilla react in turn. The kiss is slow, deliberately deep, and it allows time for hands and legs to wander and entwine.

Breaking away again, Laura releases a controlled breath. With her forehead resting against Carmilla’s, eyes closed, she licks her lips quickly before leaning back. Carmilla, captivated, follows her retreat to the edge of the bed.

Laura sits up and straddles Carmilla’s legs, which slide together at the floor to kick off Carmilla’s boots. Laura hugs Carmilla to her, and Carmilla’s hands find the slice of skin beneath Laura’s blouse. Laura puts her hands on Carmilla’s shoulders, squeezing a sense of trust into them. 

“Don’t stop, ok?” Laura requests. Carmilla, tired and achey but with energy bursting at her seams and excitement trilling her skin where it touches Laura, can only nod once quickly, before focusing her eyes on Laura’s chest.

Carmilla unbuttons Laura’s shirt with moderate pace, and rests her forehead against Laura’s chest, holding her close. Laura makes a sigh that sounds impatient as she runs her hand over the back of Carmilla’s head, twirling locks of hair around the digits.

She gasps that sigh back in as Carmilla attaches her lips to the swell of Laura’s left breast and digs her fingernails into Laura’s back. Carmilla pulls both of them backwards onto Laura’s sheets, roughing them up as knees and propped forearms restlessly rearrange. Laura arches her body down to Carmilla, and Carmilla rises.

Carmilla does not stop. Clothing is shed and skin is touched red and pressure-white. They quickly reach 100 kph and hurtle right on through to 150. Laura’s heart is pounding in her chest and in Carmilla’s ears and their gasping breaths find unison on several occasions. Carmilla realizes she really likes it when Laura looks like she wants to say something, locking eyes with Carmilla, until Carmilla grinds into her behind her hand, and Laura’s eyes go hazy and her mouth drops open, and she seems to forget what she was thinking. Laura has a tendency to hold onto anything else like she’s gripping for life - the sheets, the headboard, the drywall, peeling away under her white fingertips. Carmilla really likes it when she takes Laura’s gripping hand back to her body, her side, her thigh, her ass. The dig of Laura’s fingers burn hot pressure into Carmilla’s cold skin, and it almost feels like fire and Carmilla reveals in the feeling of just _Laura, Laura, Laura._

Laura tumbles over the edge first, and she tries to take Carmilla with her, but her exhaustion sets in quickly, and her fingers slow and her kisses lose pressure and her eyes can’t stay open. Dipping into Laura’s neck, burying her nose in Laura’s still elevated but slowing pulse beat, Carmilla huffs air through her pointed teeth and quickly races to the drop herself. Laura’s hands roam Carmilla’s body in a sleepy and somewhat detached manner, which doesn’t necessarily help Carmilla’s situation, but is appreciated anyway. Carmilla comes with a gasped laugh caught in her throat, and Laura pats her back in a somewhat congratulatory manner. 

Carmilla squeezes her eyes together. Laura yawns obnoxiously. Carmilla resists the urge to giggle along with Laura, but she can’t hide the smile in her cheeks. Her fangs point into her lower lip and again she chastises herself for thinking there was ever anything other than Laura that existed in the world.

 

~~~~

 

The morning after, Laura wakes before Carmilla, of course. Feeling something similar to joviality, she showers and dresses and decides to go to class. Leaving a lingering kiss in Carmilla’s bangs, Laura breathes in deeply, inhaling Carmilla’s scent, to keep her high on her journey.

Class is boring and by all accounts barely worth the cross-campus journey past the Pit where some of the Zetas have taken up posts, holding their fraternity shields and watching Laura’s progress with equally steely gazes. Laura wonders if Kirsch has taken her defense in the Zeta’s righteous “Well, who do we blame?” arguments. She doesn’t believe she deserves it, having risked Kirsch’s memory in her pursuit of truth…

She meets Perrybriefly outside of the computer classroom that’s being shared by photojournalism classes and German Kinder-tale translations, feeling relief that Perry says she's happy Carmilla is back safe.

“You know, I don’t think I’ll ever understand her need to be quite so callous and rude, but I can see that she makes you very happy. You’re positively glowing today!”

Laura blushes a deeper red than is normal for her light-toned cheeks, “Yep, just super happy she’s back and all, safe and sound.”

“Well, wonderful. LaFontaine tells me there’s another meeting tonight, it’d probably be a good idea to have Carmilla there."

“Yea, I’ll make her go. Any news?”

“From what I understand it’s mostly coming from Danny and the Summer’s, and all the weapons they found under the house. But what I’m more concerned with is the distinct drop in our campus population. Every week we seem to be losing more students, but after this weekend…” Perry looks to either side of the deserted hallway, “There were only five of us in my translations class today. ”

“Do you think anyone else has been kidnapped?” Laura asks in a hushed tone.

“No one has told me of anyone missing yet, but its worrisome. And we’re losing eyes and ears on the ground with every person that flees.”

Laura is frightened by that statement, finding she can only hum and hold her books closer to her chest. Perry cringes before rearranging her face into a soft smile.

“But anyway. I don’t mean to keep you. Maybe you can ask some of your fellow classmates about anything they’ve seen or heard recently. They might be a bit more observant than the translations lot, we’ve always got our heads in a book, anyway.”

“Yea, my head’s been a little out of the game, I think it’ll be good to be on the ground level again, hear the stories first hand.”

“And maybe you can answer some of your viewers’ questions about your love life, because I’ve been asked multiple times and really don’t have an answer for it,” Perry nods repeatedly and puts a light squeeze on Laura’s shoulder, leaving her standing in the hallway with a sudden great trepidation.

Laura finds the atmosphere in her Astrology and Mythic Creatures class to be sober and quiet. While working on star charts, she hears the grievances of her fellow students, some afraid to fall asleep at night without an emergency pack stashed under their bed, some who’s friends that have already left keep telling them to flee. But at least one other who is putting their trust and well-being in Laura and her team, and who is also dangerously curious about the secrets they’ve yet to uncover. For Laura, just one is enough.

Eventually however, someone asks her quite an exacting question about whether she’s Team Fangs or Team Summer, and Laura remembers why she stopped reading the comments on her videos.

“It’s… it’s complicated, and I have to go,” Laura says, gathering her things in amessy pile in her arms and leaving with a quick “bye!” ten minutes before the end of class.

She stops just before the exit of the building, putting her things down and trying to arrange them comfortably in her backpack. Along the edge of the hallway is a large mural of the constellations within Orion, and each star sparkles with a soothing, blue-white LED crystal. Feeling a bit trapped between the stifling questions of her love life and the bitter cold of the unknown, Laura sits on a bench in the small hallway and contemplates the stars.

Which leads her to contemplate Carmilla.

Which causes a warm bump to rise in her heart beat, and fuels her desire to see the brooding but outrageously romantic vampire that risked her life to save Laura’s…

And it gives her a _great_ idea about how to bring up the “I kissed Danny kinda a lot when you were gone” issue.

 

~~~~

 


	14. Chapter 14: A Few Deaths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SOOOO I took a 6 month hiatus I guess? Actually around November my mother became ill and had to be hospitalized, so I stopped writing for a while. BUT she has recovered, she’s relatively healthy, we’re all ok, thank you. And then it just took me several more weeks after deciding to finish this story, to actually finish this story.   
> But I did it and I’m gonna apologize for the wait but also pat myself on the back because I NEVER thought I could involve myself so deeply into something, and for it to turn out relatively close to what I had envisioned. There’s parts I’m really proud of, and others where I know I just rushed through it. But overall I am happy, and relieved, and excited to share the ending with you.
> 
> Anyway, here’s what’s up with this chapter:  
> ~Laura/Carmilla/chocolate truffle  
> ~big ole’ important Dragoon meeting  
> ~There’s a bar fight! It ends pretty quick.  
> ~Fuck yes I love the idea of Danny riding around on CarmillaCat don’t judge me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> As the title may suggest, there is murder in this chapter. Bloody murder.  
> Chapter 14: 10,000 words (‘WHAT?!’ - you’re welcome, sorry about the wait, love you)
> 
> A/N: German:  
> ein bisschen Liebe - a little love  
> Ich hatte schon bessere, Bruder - I’ve had better, Brother

 

~~Chapter 14: A Few Deaths~~

 

Laura arrives after dusk, having stuck it out through all of her classes that day.

She finds Carmilla reading on Laura’s bed, the yellow pillow resting against her back.

“So my key card won’t work at the dining hall, for some reason,” Laura complains nonchalantly when she drops her bag to the floor.

“Your chocolate truffle is in the mini fridge, forgotten and uneaten…” Carmilla rolls down the bed and languidly looks up at Laura. Her hair fringes away from her face, showing youth and glow, and Laura registers the empty cup of blood slowly staining a circle atop her headboard.

“I suppose I’ll have to share it, being the altruistic person that I am,” Laura replies, bouncing towards the fridge.

“Being that I travelled so far and wide for it,” Carmilla adds, climbing up her elbows and smiling. But Laura’s smile falters, “It was souvenir; like an afterthought.” She holds the truffle delicately in her palms, but her words are stern.

Carmilla recovers with a smile, “Never an afterthought, Cupcake.” She leans up on her wrist and reaches the other hand across mussed sheets, fingers catching on the hills between valleys. Her eyes draw Laura in, and Laura doesn’t hold on to her troubles. 

They squeeze onto the dorm bed together, Laura cradling the truffle in her hands between them. Carmilla unwraps the delicate bow, playing her eyebrows and building the anticipation, and Laura can’t help the crinkle in her cheeks when she smiles.

The chocolate is probably the most decadent thing Laura has ever put into her mouth. There’s a crunch to release a piece from the whole, and then it melts delightfully on her tongue, but doesn’t disappear. Rather it coats everything in a bittersweet blanket and it makes Laura’s whole body tingle and her stomach stops gnawing at her insides, and while she’s trying to mow her tongue over every corner coated by chocolate, her eyes squint little smiles at Carmilla, who seems to just eat the scene up and her tongue reaches for chocolate between her own cheeks and teeth. Her eyes are wider, awash with starlight, and Laura wishes she could just dive in.

But all good things come to an end, and the truffle is gone, as is the last morsel hiding behind Laura’s molars.

“So?” Carmilla asks smugly, already knowing the answer. 

“It was ok,” Laura says to deflate her. Carmilla shakes her head but keeps her smugness, reclining back against the yellow pillow and stretching her spine. Laura licks her lips again and asks conversationally, “Have a good day?”

“Seeing as it started not too long ago, yes.”

Laura crawls over and hovers a kiss into Carmilla’s lips. Carmilla smiles as she leans up, “In your absence I’ve kept myself warm with your memory…” Carmilla kisses a trail into the crook of Laura’s neck. Laura giggles and presses her hands into Carmilla’s shoulders and back, “But this moment is so much sweeter…”

Laura forgets her hunger, choosing instead to indulge in the pleasures of being beneath Carmilla’s hands and lips. Carmilla’s messy curls wisp and splay over Laura’s skin, and Laura’s toes rhythmically tap against Carmilla’s calves happily.

The questions and uncertainties melt away under Carmilla’s touch, her lips are Laura’s only concern and if Laura stays wrapped up in her, there’s really nothing wrong in the world at all…

But eventually Laura’s stomach growls - she giggles and pulls back and pushes Carmilla away when she tries to chase her retreat. “You heard there’s a Dragoon meeting tonight, right? Danny and the Summers wanna talk about the weapons cache beneath the Summer House.”

“Exciting,” Carmilla remarks with mild sarcasm, playing with Laura’s hair. Laura breaks away by stretching up to the headboard, and runs her fingers over the spines of books there.

“I’m gonna sit this one out. Y’know, chill out, read a book for pleasure or something. But you should go. You missed some stuff.”

“I’d rather stay here and enjoy the pleasure of your company,” Carmilla says with fingers trailing from Laura’s side down her hip.

Laura blushes as she leans into Carmilla, pressing her hands to Carmilla’s chest and speaking softly, “The meeting starts at 8.”

“May it never arrive,” Carmilla’s lips curl over Laura’s collarbone.

 

~~~~

 

It does arrive. Carmilla is late, but so is the meeting.

She enters the Summer House silently, unnoticed yet by the Sisters milling about in the kitchen, nor the other students waiting in the entrance hall for the meeting to start. 

Hearing clearly Danny’s whispered voice from across the room, Carmilla lingers in the hallway, listening. “You’re still the same person, Kirsch. Losing your memory doesn’t mean losing yourself.”

Kirsch is heard clearing his throat.

“Yea, but like, how do I know who I am if I can’t remember how I feel about stuff? I’ve got my gut and my head telling me different things everyday; how do I know which is right?”

In the firelight reflection of a glass-framed map of hunting grounds around the perimeters of Silas, Carmilla sees Danny put both hands on Kirsch’s shoulders.

“Truth is, we’re all a little lost. And especially now, it’s tough to know what comes next. But at the end of each day, this is where we are, and that’s our starting line for tomorrow. It takes bravery to keep going, Kirsch.”

“…I like being brave,” Kirsch admits almost shyly when Danny drops her grip on his shoulders.

“Plenty of others like you being brave too. Why do you think you’re the voice for the Zetas at these meetings?”

“Well, they know that we’re kinda friends - “

“They know that you’ll do what’s right in the Zeta name. Just as I’ve got to do right by my Sisters.” Danny leans a little closer, lowering her voice, “And we _are_ friends. We fight for each other, and we’ll get through this together.”

Carmilla ebbs around the corner and watches Kirsch’s eyes blink back mist - he’s outrageously moved by Danny’s words. He can’t seem to speak, so he just crushes his jaw and nods strongly at Danny.

“Together,” tall, impressive, Knight-like Danny repeats sincerely, and Carmilla rolls her eyes while rolling completely around the corner and into the room. “Yea… absolutely,” Kirsch nods, his voice rising from a whisper as other students, Sisters and a few Zetas pass into the library. Danny pats a hand on Kirsch’s back, steering him to a seat, “See? You’re still as loyal and brave as ever. “ 

“Such a saint, Redwood,” Carmilla announces her presence, and Danny fires right back over her shoulder, “Hey Overbite. Wrong side of the coffin _again?_ ”

Carmilla actually smiles at the utterly predictable comeback. “Just getting back into the swing of things, is all.” She pulls a chair out at the center of table, closest to the door, and sits, making sure to recline back as far as possible and crossing her boots atop the table. The room is steadily filling, seeming as though everyone else had been waiting for Carmilla’s entrance. “Shall we get to it, Oh Great Leader?”

“Laura’s not coming?” Danny asks, crestfallen for all to see. 

“Girl needs a break from sleuthing. It’s just you and I,” Carmilla says with an eyebrow raise. “…And all these other people,” she adds with a flip of her wrist. Danny breaks her gaze.

“All right, then. Let’s get to it,” Danny says in a louder voice and motions for everyone to find a seat. She peruses her binder on the wooden table, before glancing up at Carmilla, who holds her eyes again with a mild but not altogether unpleasant look on her face. Danny takes in a breath, looking throughout the room as eyes turn attentively toward her. She stands taller, and begins in a somewhat officiating manner.

“ ‘ _Hereafter, I call to order Dragoon, the Last Defense._ ’ Miral, you’re taking minutes?”

A Summer Sister seated behind Danny with a laptop resting on her legs gives a thumbs up. Carmilla yawns noticeably. _Ritual._

“Let’s get started then. We’re here to discuss and divide up the Sisterhood weapons in the event of an attack. There’s some heavy duty equipment down there, and some of us are gonna need some dueling training - but the Sisters are willing to share our inventory with the Zetas, provided we set a few ground rules.”

Kirsch, simultaneously raising his hand and standing up, un-crinkles a small sheet and begins to read from it: “ ‘ _The Brothers of Zeta Omega Mu remain more or less compliant to the Alliance with the Summer Society Sisters, and we will act accordingly to our charter and commitment to the University’s Student Body, so long as it protects especially the hottest of said bodies’_.” Kirsch looks up at Danny and waves the paper, “This is from El Capitán.”

“Who?” Zane asks from the chair next to his. Another Zeta hits his shoulder from behind, “The President of the frat, bro.”

“Oh yea, that guy. No, I remember,” Zane says with a look that rather questions his memory.

Danny rolls her eyes and cracks her neck, “The wording is frustrating, but as long as the response is ‘yes,’ we can move on to- “

“Wait a sec, this is the first time we’re hearing from the Zeta President, and he’s not even here to negotiate?” someone against the Summer’s side wall complains. “Or defend himself?” another asks right after.

“He likes to keep to his inner circle, but that letter’s straight from him,” Kirsch says, sitting back down quickly. “I kept forgetting what he wanted me to say, so he wrote it down for me.”

“Clandestine, much? “ one of the Sisters scoffs loudly, and Danny puts a hand up -

“Oh sure, and where’s your President, hmm?” the Zeta behind Zane leans forward.

“On mission, fulfilling a sacred obligation as a Summer -“ the Summer is interrupted by the Sister next to her jutting her hand out, “We don’t have to explain our traditions to you.”

“And neither do we, although you girls sure do love your secrets! Keeping a whole treasure chest of weapons, just waiting for the day you can usurp the righteous Brotherhood from it’s seat at the University - “

“The University is the enemy!”

“It’s our home! It’s our right!” 

“ _It’s our home! It’s our right!”_

“ _NO!”_ Danny yells louder than any one else, “ _No chanting!”_

Carmilla takes her boots off the table, crossing them beneath her chair and bracing her elbows on the wide wooden armrests. Both the Zeta and Summer sides slowly edge back to their respective corners.

“It’s no matter whose presidents are where. What matters are the people here, in this room. We are fighting _together_ , because _we_ are all we’ve got.”

Danny waits for rebuttal, but both agitated sides sit in their seats or lean back against the wall. They must have heard this lecture trifold at least, but it never sticks.Tirelessly, Danny continues on, although Carmilla doubts the group of restless children can be kept quiet for long.

“Here’s the situation: while the school is still open, the Sacrifice is on, which means potential kidnappings. And, while most of the student body and faculty have chosen to get the hell out, that means we’ve got less people with us keeping a lookout. So we’ll need to start traveling in teams, especially between classes after dark.”

“And the Pit?” asks a Summer at the table, chin length hair curving attentively up the back of her head. She puts her interlaced hands on the table and looks at Danny with more than a little attitude.

Kirsch leans forward with excitement, “Some of the Zetas are gonna stop going to class, so we can keep the perimeter around the Pit.”

“How unsurprising,” Carmilla remarks, and Kirsch turns to her. “We’re gonna take shifts, and have ambush paintball battles to keep us on our toes,” he smiles at her.

“Good plan,” Carmilla nods with exhaustive energy, willing him to stop talking to her. He smiles wider and Carmilla rolls her eyes heavily as he turns away.

“Right,” Danny says, nodding to Kirsch, “And whatever armament the Zeta’s don’t already possess, the Sisterhood will loan, for the time being.”

“I’d like to remind everyone that it’s our responsibility to look out for us all, not just the members of our social circles and clubs,” Perry says, choosing this time to walk around the room with a platter of brownies, letting people grab them greedily. “We can no longer trust any authority on campus to intervene. Like Danny said, it’s up to us,” Perry nods to Danny and places the platter of brownies on the table in front of her.

“There’s a storm coming, people. And while there’s no security on campus, there’s opportunity to mount our own defenses,” Danny says.

“Speaking of that, what’s going on with the tunnel situation?” comes a voice from the corner of the room.

“That depends,” Josef the Alchemist speaks up from the other corner, “Are we going to evacuate, or stand and fight?”

He stands near a bookshelf, and next to him stands a very young-looking freshman Alchemist, who is no doubt Josef’s protege, judging by her bushy hair and nearly identical outfit to his, even down to the purple and black tie. Carmilla notices that LaFontaine pretends to remember who she is when the girl waves quickly and enthusiastically at them when the room’s attention turns back to Danny.

“We’ve got weapons and for now, the Zetas are right - Silas is our home, and we have a right to defend it. I’m hopeful we won’t have to use the tunnel at all.”

“Probably a good idea,“ Carmilla drawls, making eye contact with Danny and raising an eyebrow, forcing the image of the angry villagers into her mind. Danny cringes and her hand goes to the the sheath hanging on her hip, where her dagger lay.

“What is that supposed to mean?” asks the same mouthy Summer with the short haircut, looking between Danny and Carmilla. “Why does our plan of _escape_ sound like it’s got some kinks in it? If we’re not using the tunnel, why are we still wearing these wrist bands from the bonfire? _”_ She pulls roughly on her silicone bracelet glowing a mild but still-there blue.

Josef speaks up behind her, “The bracelets are still part of the plan, they will signal purple if evacuation is ordered - “

“And _when_ are we ordering it? The smaller our numbers get, the more spread out our resources, and the worse our chances. We’re not gonna see what’s coming,” her voice rises quickly, “ - Until it’s already too late.” Her friend seated next to her whispers, “Woah, Jen - “ but Jen ignores her light touch. “Not all of us are racing to meet our deaths. If there’s another reason why we can’t just use the tunnel, you should tell us.”

“It’s just not our best option at this point,” Danny tries to placate, but the unstrung Summer is looking rather suspicious, glancing between Danny and Carmilla. Carmilla crosses her ankle over her knee and speaks to the girl.

“The village past the tunnel, Fövaran, is a place with a not unreasonable aversion to members of the Silas population, which makes uninvited entry there an unwise decision.”

“Maybe just for _certain members,”_ Jen says with unexpected venom, and Carmilla feels her hackles rise. Jen stands with her hands in fists at her sides, looking meanly right at Carmilla.“Vampires were once hunted throughout this region. I’d suspect the traditions ended when your mom came to power here.”

“Jesus, Jen - “ Jen’s friend gasps again, looking wary under Carmilla’s icy cool gaze. But Jen doesn’t back down, even as Carmilla’s face slowly darkens to a snarl. There was a time not very long ago where she would have already ripped the girl’s tongue out by her thumb and forefinger - but something stops her now, and as she looks over at Danny, she realizes why. Danny’s got her dagger out, held slack but with the hilt poised for quick action. Her eyes watch Carmilla intensely, a warning and a plea. Carmilla cracks open her jaw, stretching her muscles, and sits back.

“Consider it lucky I am more ally than enemy to you, Cinnamon Roll. A warning, however, that my tastes vary, often on whim.”

“She just threatened me, see!”

“You threatened her first, “ Kirsch says from Carmilla’s side. Jen ignores him and continues to bite in Carmilla’s direction, “Our President would _never_ team up with a vampire, we should have hunted your lot down as soon we knew the truth behind the kidnappings!“

Danny responds by slamming her dagger into the table, precision sharp and strong enough to run a large crack right through the wood. Gasps steal the angry words away from open mouths. Danny acknowledges no one but the blade, and somehow, commands the room.

“I am making the hard decisions because you all looked to me to do so. Carmilla is our ally and we will not be killing her,” (Carmilla tips an invisible hat to the room), “And we will use the escape plan and tunnel only as a last resort.”

Jen scoffs and a few other Summers behind her cross their arms in solidarity. Danny looks hard at them all, “We kept some things from you all because we felt it was the right decision. But I’ll tell you now that running from Silas is not going to save us - at most we’ll just be passing the burden on to someone else, and we’ll all still be in danger.We’ve had to bear some sacrifices to get to where we are, and I’m not gonna give up now.“

But Danny’s speech does not sway Jen.

“Those that sacrificed didn’t sign up for it in the first place. Elsie is missing a part of her life, she’s never gonna be the same.” Danny visibly winces at the former Summer’s name, dropping her gaze from the cross Sister.“The rest of us watched her slip away until she finally left. A Sister _left_ us because she felt apart from us, she felt _abandoned_.”

“You can’t blame me for Elsie going home; she left because she needed to, and anyway she never said anything- “

“To you? Maybe because you’ve been obsessed with this idea of playing war games with the University?” Jen pushes her chair back and throws a hand at Carmilla’s direction, “You’ve been having little adventures and sharing secrets with a camera-ready Freshman and a vampire that was part of the cult that took Elsie!“ (Carmilla rolls her eyes and knows where this is going.) 

“Makes me wonder if you’ve forgotten your Oath to Kith and Kin, Sister,” Jen stabs.

Danny turns vexed, “Don’t doubt my commitment to my Sisters, Archer.”

“The plan is to wait for a battle to fall upon us, how is that leadership? You’re like a broken record, Lawrence - ‘ _we’re all in this together.’_ I’m sick of your platitudes!“

“Platitudes keep people calm!” Danny returns with just as much force. “You can’t lead anyone into a fight who doesn’t believe you’ve got a chill head!”

Jen Archer lets out a small twisted smile, “Case in point, Lawrence. Call me when you’ve got a decent exit strategy.”

Shoving her way out, she leaves the room, and her imploring friend follows. Their sudden absence leaves a vacant vocal space. So Carmilla fills it.

“For the record, I’m not planning on killing anyone here.”

Gazes turn to her but the unproductive silence still remains. Carmilla tosses her hand in Danny’s direction. “The good thing about a schism is that the debate gets much shorter. Buck up, creampuffs, we’ve a meeting to finish.”

Danny’s face is shadowed as she pulls her dagger out of the table and runs a hand over the crack. Perry stands over LaFontaine’s shoulder and reaches carefully for the platter of brownies, moving them out of the Strike Zone. Josef and the young Alchemist both loosen their ties. Zane gives Kirsch’s shoulders a tough squeeze for seemingly no other reason than to assure him that he is there. LaFontaine reaches forward and taps the binder in front of Danny, who clears her throat before reaching in and pulling out a sheet.

“So… This is an inventory list, stake your claims amongst yourselves. The stipulations for weapons use for non-Sisters is basically a loan principle - you will be returning the weapons. If you don’t know how to use your equipment, you will be taught. Mandatory weapons training begins tomorrow. Any questions?”

“D’you have any sick tridents on that list?” Zane asks, and a few laughs escape into the room.

“No. Any other questions?”

“I heard we’d be getting pizza, when is that coming?”

“It’s not delivery, it’s in the oven,” Danny answers quickly.

That spreads agreement around the room better than anything Danny could have said that night. Danny unofficially waves the meeting adjourned, moving to tack the inventory list to a standing board in the corner, as the remaining Zetas and Sisters are swept from the room by the promise of pizza. Perry leads both Kirsch and Zane, and Carmilla can hear her whisper conspiratorially to them, “I saved some special tarts for you two for afterwards - made with e _in bisschen liebe_ , to help bring you some good memories…”

Still seated as the room clears, Carmilla watches LaFontaine approach Danny and speak quietly, before getting the silent invitation and a wave to come over herself. Danny starts rubbing her temples as LaFontaine begins, “So J.P. and I learned some things about the Superintendent, and we’re wondering if you’ve ever heard much about a High Council? Anyone the Dean might have specifically answered to?”

Carmilla aches with boredom. “There’s been a lot of ‘ _High Councils’_ throughout history. I’m sure I’ve heard of many, but I wouldn’t know - “

Carmilla’s eyes look beyond the two red-heads standing in front of her, out past the corner of the bookshelf lit with firelight, further and further across distance and time - and she remembers, clearly, seeing her Mother, and the man who would become the Superintendent, and beyond them, a round table seated by cloaked figures effusing power and mystery.

“What is it, Carmilla?” Danny asks, bringing the warmth of the fire and the glow of lamp light back to Carmilla’s reality. “There is an island in the Northern Hebrides, off of Scotland, where I went once with Mother to some cloak and dagger meeting.But I took no part in it, and I don’t know what transpired there.”

LaFontaine creeps closer, “Nothing? You can’t remember anything more?”

“I can tell you that the Superintendent of our school is probably a lot older than he looks, but I was just a passive observer.I can’t give you any more revelation than that.”

“Well, what we do know isn’t much. This High Council seems to secretly govern a large swathe of Europe and into Asia, and the Super was probably/definitely sent by them.”

“He could be some sort of replacement for your mother, “ Danny ponders, but Carmilla shakes her head. “That’s unlikely given that he’s been pretty much stationary since he got here - he’s more like a place holder,” Carmilla leans casually into a crossed-arm stance and tries to ignore the twitching of muscles in her shoulders and neck.

“He was helping us for a little bit; or helping Perry, anyway. Until this past weekend we can’t really say anything to either effect about the Superintendent’s role here - aside from that Town Hall about the Lustig, he’s been curiously reserved from campus politics.”

“If you found out about the High Council from the Library vault you hacked into, why are you asking me for information?” Carmilla asks LaFontaine.

“Because a lot of it has been redacted,” Danny provides.

“Well thats predictable.”

“J.P. can probably cross-reference and decipher it, but that’s gonna take time.” LaFontaine adds. “We haven’t found anything concrete yet, but there are suggestions that there’s an expiration date for how long Lophy can go without a meal.”

Danny's nods in agreement, “We’ve been holding ground with this Pit for weeks now. Something needs to break.” Her hand floats to her hip, fingers braced against the sheath of her dagger. No one replies.

“Anyway,” Danny breaks the hold, letting her hand fall from her weapon and stepping back from their little all-in. “We should get some pizza before it’s gone, LaF - there’s not much other food in the house, the grocer in town’s still out of stock on a lot of stuff. It’s probably fair to say that people have started hoarding.”

LaFontaine nods, “As entertaining as that meeting was, I am not about to go home without a slice or two, for having endured it.”

But Carmilla holds Danny back, leaning against the cracked table. Waiting for LaFontaine to fully exit, Carmilla inspects the line of damage with a finger before looking up at Danny.

“For a second there you looked like you wanted stab someone.”

Danny cringes, “Jen Archer’s a damn handful, she’s never been happy that I got the VP bid.”

This answer surprises Carmilla, who creases her eyebrows, “And if I had been the one to attack?”

“I was really trusting you wouldn’t,” Danny holds her gaze. “But Jen,” Danny collides her fist with her catching hand, “she’s grandstanding and splitting support, and to bring up Elsie like that… She’s been scaring people.”

Unable to think of anything more clever, Carmilla replies, “These are scary times.”

“Yea but…” Danny looks away to the hallway, voices and shadows moving across the walls, “ … we have to be brave, don’t we?”

“We don’t have to do anything, actually. You’re all choosing to do this,” Carmilla shrugs.

“And that’s what I can’t stand thinking about. What if this choice is the wrong one?” Danny speaks softer to Carmilla, looking at her as if she might have the answer hidden in her head somewhere.

Carmilla tightens her jaw and lifts her eyebrows, “Sad to say, none of my years has given me better insight on that, Red.”

 

~~~~

 

Carmilla’s mind wanders as she takes the long way back to the dorms, preferring the darker edge of campus, away from the purple glowing light of the sky over the Pit. Her mind wanders down avenues of memories that only register as pale, hazy fragments, fighting to a surface which is now littered with consuming thoughts about Laura, desires to keep her as a precious thing, but knowing how difficult she would make that… 

Her mind takes a strange turn as she passes beneath the bright red-orange glow of a street lamp. Recalling instances of Danny struggling not to curse her own mortality and ineffectualness, Carmilla feels a surprise bittersweetness arise within her. Danny, while doubtlessly stubborn and somewhat tunnel-visioned, keeps a remarkable capacity for openness. For someone who just a few months ago would rather have seen Carmilla dead or gone, she’s very forthcoming with her friendship. Carmilla’s mind ponders why it is that her long dead heart keeps seeking out those that still beat passionately, when she’s fully aware of the grim ends to which that passion often leads.

 

By the time she’s returned to the dorms, she’s more thrown than she should be at the strange semi-darkness within, meeting Laura standing right in the middle, illuminated in soft green light.

“And what’s this?” Carmilla enters the room hesitant but with a groan at the ready.

“In a lingering high of dopamine in my brain, I had a thought, and then I did a thing,” Laura gestures with wide arms and a smile at the ceiling. Carmilla’s groan disappears from her reserve.

“I see that…” Carmilla leans her head back and walks further, examining the ceiling, “And where did you get these little ones?”

“Turns out a few more students have fled Silas since the bonfire -free dorm stuff, and perishable foods from their mini fridges. Look!” running to the mini fridge, “… we scored enough chocolate to last the winter,” she grins proudly.

“Quite a lot happened while I was gone, it seems.”

Laura suddenly blushes more intensely than Carmilla was expecting, and she notes how quickly she turns to reach deeper into the packed fridge and pull out a hefty blood bag. “Welcome home,” she says like a belated happy birthday, and grabs a cup for Carmilla, and slices a slit in the top corner. Carmilla’s fangs itch, and one pops out when Laura pours, but she pops it back in before Laura turns to hand her the cup, smiling.

“Much better than pizza,” she says after a hearty sip.

“Wait - there was pizza, and you didn’t bring me any?” Laura says with her hands coming to her hips.

“It was gone by the time I got there, sorry cupcake,” Carmilla mouths over her cup rim.

“Oh. I guess it’d be a long-shot anyway, with Zetas in the vicinity.” Laura now stands awkwardly in front of her, obviously wanting some positive reaction to her work. Her heartbeat is noticeably peaking above the softly playing indie-river-folk-guitar music coming from her computer.

Carmilla takes Laura’s hand and a another sip, and leans her head back to consider the ceiling. It’s no longer bare but filled with small neon-green plastic star constellations. Orion is recognizable, rising over the foot of Laura’s bed, and the rough shape of Perseus flies over Carmilla’s headboard and part of the kitchenette. A small Taurus is squeezed into the frame of the ceiling light, half-ing the room.

Laura’s heartbeat declares nervousness. “I flunked my last Astrology test so don’t get too excited, but I figured some star-gazing indoors would be nice, especially with how cold it’s been. It’s not the same, but we can add more stars if we find them in the donation bin in the student lounge. “

Carmilla shushes her by grabbing her hand and dragging it behind Carmilla’s back, bringing her closer, “C’mere.” Laura leans up as Carmilla leans down, bending her body and lifting her by her waist, blood cup held away and placed precisely behind them on Laura’s headboard.

Carmilla seamlessly floats them both down to Carmilla’s bed, but only a few delicious moments are spent between them, because Carmilla can’t ignore the irregular pounding of Laura’s heart.

“Laura - Why are you so nervous?”

Laura blinks rapidly, and says simply, “Oh. Uhm,…”

Carmilla leans against her wall and puts a space between their bodies. “Tell me.”

Laura takes a brave breath in.

“Look, Carm… I need to tell you something, and I hope you’ll forgive me for it.”

Flags go up but Carmilla chooses to stay calm.

“Is this why you pasted glowing plastic to the ceiling?” Carmilla asks, mildly amused.

Laura appears slightly relieved and indignant. “No! I did that because I love you and wanted you to know I was thinking about you. But if it also put you in a good mood then it’s probably the best time to bring this up.”

“Ok,” Carmilla says, making a show of leaning up against the wall and crossing her arms in front of her, attentive and patient. “Bring what up?” she sighs.

Laura purses her lips tight over her teeth and it sucks a hollow into her cheeks, skeleton and bare. Her eyes waver in the contact but she doesn’t blink. “There’s something between Danny and I. And, while you were away… we kissed. A few times.”

Laura leaves a space for Carmilla to react, but aside from a facial twitch near her mouth and eyebrows, Carmilla finds she lacks ire for a rebuttal. “Go on,” she instructs.

“It happened at the bonfire, but to be truthful it had been building up for a while. We were caught in the moment, and then the Pit kinda surged with energy, and suddenly everyone was feeling really good but kinda strange, and that lasted for almost the whole weekend - and in between searching for Silas secrets and nearly losing Kirsch’s mind for it - we kissed some more. “

Carmilla’s fingers find their way across bedsheets to rumple near Laura’s knee, but its more as a distraction than a reach for closeness. Laura takes a deep breath and finishes, “I’m sorry I’m only telling you now, and I don’t mean or want to hurt you… but it happened and I can’t take it back.”

Carmilla nods and runs her tongue over the back of her teeth. Frankly, she’s not surprised. And maybe since the red head has become more tolerable, to hear it doesn’t piss her off as much as she might have expected.

“I’m not used to sharing, Creampuff,” her voice growls with the intimacy of a whisper.

Laura’s eyes widen a little and she starts, “You- you’re not gonna - “and Laura mimes a small strangulation.

“No, I’m not gonna hurt her, I thought we were past this point already,” Carmilla shuts down with irritancy. “And, we went _hiking_ together - apparently that creates some sort of ‘ _bond_ ’ with people like her.”

“Oh… ok then…” Laura’s eyebrows crumple in the middle, “I thought you might be more upset by this,” Laura says, slumping in the shoulders.

“It’s not the greatest news to come home to, but it could be worse. It doesn’t surprise me, however. You can be rather transparent about certain things, cupcake; and Big Red’s got that white knight routine, you’ve always loved that. ”

Laura blushes “Danny… might wanna talk about it with you too. She’s been kinda stressed out about keeping it a secret.”

“I don’t think it was ever a secret, Laura. “ 

Laura shrugs with guilt, but then bites her lip to regain a more serious affectation. “Are you really ok with it?”

Carmilla sucks her cheeks in mirror of Laura’s action earlier, “I’m not _‘ok with it,_ ’ no. But it’s clear it hasn’t changed your feelings for me, so I can either make you feel terrible about it, or I can kiss you,” and she does, possessively, pulling away with Laura’s lower lip between her lip. “As long as I have you…” her eyes greedily taking in Laura’s flushed skin, light hair, creased eyebrows and pretty, pretty irises. She decides she doesn’t want to finish the sentence. So she starts another, “For as long as I can… I will.” She wraps herself around Laura.

Carmilla’s phone rings, all shrill guitar and punk rock drums. Laura makes a disgruntled noise as Carmilla ignores it. 

It rings again, almost immediately, and Carmilla comes up, “The fuck, really?” she growls, reaching down the bed to get the phone from her bag.

Her eyebrows perk when she reads Danny’s name.

“Kinda busy, She-Ra,” Carmilla answers.

“Gonna need you to clear your schedule, there’s a fight brewing at the town pub.”

“And that’s somehow my responsibility?”

“Technically it’s mine, since I’m the one Jen has a problem with - but she’s down there now with her pack, blowing off steam and stirring the pot. Her friend just called to say they broke into the Summer vault, took some weapons, and now Jen’s drunkenly tossing hers about like Big Amazon on Campus.”

“Still not seeing why you’re calling me.”

“I’m asking you for help. I can handle Jen, but I’ve no idea about the sentiment of the townsfolk - you’re aware that they’ve been holding town halls against the University and it’s secrecy, right?”

“They’ve been complaining for as long as the town’s been in existence.”

“Not about the Pit, they haven’t. Listen, can I please just see you at the bridge in 10 minutes?”

Having kept her ear close to Carmilla’s to hear the conversation, Laura grabs Carmilla’s hand with her phone clutched in it and excitedly answers Danny, “We’ll be there!”

“Laura? Wait, you don’t have to - “

“I’m grabbing my baseball bat!” Laura bounces off the bed and straight to the closet.

“Now you’ve done it,” Carmilla chides to Danny, cutting off her reply by swiping the call out.

 

~~~~

 

Laura, with Carmilla close by her side, waves to Kirsch and Zane as they trot up the path, and all four converge beneath the orange street lamp just under the bridge, lighting the walkway into town. Danny is on the phone, sounding a little frustrated.

“We’re on our way, ok? Just, try to keep Jen distracted, and keep her away from that mace!” Danny closes the call and looks up, shaking her head and sighing, but stepping immediately toward the walkway and out of the lamplight. “That was Angie, Jen’s friend, who tried to calm her down at the meeting,” Danny reminds Carmilla, but Carmilla tilts her head in a way that says she doesn’t remember, or doesn’t care to.

“This is the girl throwing passive-aggressive eye-daggers at you at the Dragoon meetings, right?” Laura asks, jogging to catch up with Danny at the front of the group.

“She’s moved to full on ‘reckless endangerment’ now. She’s acting like a selfish brat, picking bar fights and talking trash.” Danny’s jaw tightens and she picks her pace up. Laura trots every now and then to keep up. “We’ll bring her around, after she’s sobered up a bit,” she tries helpfully.

“I’ll talk with her,” Danny resolves. 

 

~~~~

 

Thinking back on it…

Laura has to stop recording for a moment. She looks around the dorm, brightly lit at 1 a.m. for her re-telling of the Bar Fight. She contemplates on what the consequences of this particular video may bring. It could very well damage the already splintering faction of Summers, Zetas, Alchemists and Left Over students that have joined Dragoon. 

But it’s the truth, from her perspective at least. And Laura believes that knowledge regarding one’s personal safety and the safety of those they care about should be paramount over the projection of false security for the sake of conformity.She reasons, anyway.

 

Laura remembers Carmilla moving closer to her as they arrive in the muted glow of the town square, the orange street lamps and yellow lights from closed store fronts creating shadows on the blanketed snow banks. Already, outside the The Wolves' Den, they hear a loud, drunken voice. Jen is cornering Angie at the building’s alleyway, her arms wide and emphatic, Angie’s clasped behind her body, with a torso-length iron mace hanging there.

She’s arguing with Angie, trying to get the weapon from her. The conversation ends when Jen fakes-out, and steals a firm grip on the middle shaft from behind Angie. This pulls Angie off balance, and Jen harshly tugs the spiked mace away.

At that same instant, an angry bar patron slams out of the bar, followed closely by another Summer. Jen catcalls him with a jaunty swing of her mace, and he comes with aggression and unintelligible syllables towards her.

Danny rushes forward, along with Angie and the other Summer; together they pull apart the fight before it really has a chance to start, but not before the man comes away with a slice down his arm.

The bar patron is angry, and drunk, and Jen seems to be feeling remorseful now, but is also drunk and volatile, so a proper explanation of “who started it?” does not pan out well. From what Laura could decipher, Jen and her Sisters walked in very-well armed to the bar, where a group of locals had inconveniently just been talking about how the University seems to be shoring up for some disaster that the Town has no idea about. (They also apparently pay a tax to the school, which is high, and nobody likes taxes so it’s a strong talking point for the sliced-up bar patron).

Throw in alcohol and the space quickly escalated in tension, so much so that Angie called Danny for help (but she also called Kirsch, which is a nice thought for the alliance).

Most of the bar, which wasn’t terribly packed, has spilled out into the street, blowing up clouds of vapor under the street and star light. A few more locals express their anger at Danny, one spits at Jen’s feet and curses the Summer Society - and that starts it. 

Danny tries to hold Jen back, but gets an elbow to the eye which causes her to slip on the snow, and Jen runs forward to sock the guy. Kirsch and Zane team up to push back some of the locals, and Angie and the other Summer struggle to both restrain Jen and protect her from swinging fists. Laura had gasped when Danny got hit, and Carmilla, after quickly moving to Danny’s side, wordlessly check’s Danny’s face. Danny tries to brush her off, standing as they see Kirsch get slammed to the ground, and Carmilla moves with great speed to vault and climb to the top of the nearest street lamp, and somehow explodes the light within, dousing the road in darkness.

“Shut up!” she commands loudly, perched atop the lamp. They stumble in the darkness, some moan in pain.

“Everybody, go home. Clean yourselves up, it’s pathetic.” In the dim, people nearly fall over each other, but the distraction has brought pause to the violence.

Egos and skin are left bruised, but the injured and the drunk are escorted home. On the way back to campus, Jen is pressured into a curfew as punishment, and Danny tasks Angie to enforce it. Kirsch also suggests that they put a guard on the weapons vault, but Danny, after looking at Jen stumbling and glaring angrily at the ground, decides against it. We have to be able to trust each other, she says. She asks Angie to make sure it’s locked back up for the night, however.

Coming closer to the bridge, Carmilla suddenly holds a hand out to stop Danny.

“I smell fire,” she says, looking toward a breeze coming from the northeast. Realizing the ridge with the tunnel, and the Village behind it, lies in that direction, Danny decides they should check it out, and Carmilla agrees.

 

Laura looks at the time, it now being over an hour passed since Carmilla left with Danny, after squeezing Laura’s shoulder and kissing her forehead quickly, and Danny giving her a reassuring nod as they stepped away.

Laura’s eyes roam over the talking points she just wrote down, without actually reading them. She looks up and rolls her shoulders. Feeling the stretch of time, Laura squashes the prickling of fear so that she can switch the program to record.

 

~~~~

 

They walk north through campus, avoiding the lit streets and Silas U security cameras. It’s quite late and they see no one. Danny feels her heart beat in her chest, in time with the _tap tap_ of Carmilla’s boots on snow-wet cement, fast with rising adrenaline.

“So, you kissed Laura?” Carmilla asks casually as they step from paved pathway to the soft white field east.

Danny’s eyes grow wide in the dark, and she thinks the moon maybe shines brighter, distractingly, on the snow ahead of her. “To be fair, she kissed me back. So…”

“So.”

“She told me you weren’t angry, but I’m not sure I believe her. And we’re alone out here, now.”

“Indeed we are.”

“How do you feel about it, then?”

“You kissed my girlfriend, I’m not exactly over the moon.”

“Right,” Danny swallow and nods quickly, feeling shame spike through her body.

“But I don’t see it as a betrayal. So your nervous heart can beat easy.”

“You don’t?” 

Carmilla’s head turns to her as she walks ahead slightly, a dark curtain of hair shielding half her face, “You’re not a threat to me, Lawrence.” Her smile is smug.

Danny swallows again, “Well, I wouldn’t want to be, anyway.” She picks up her pace to walk alongside. “I didn’t think it would turn out this way, but I care about you now, too. I care for Laura and I just want my friends safe, which is something that seems to be getting more difficult everyday. It’s the same for you, right?” Danny looks sideways to Carmilla, who’s gazing back, face blank. “…Right?” Danny fishes.

Carmilla gives an unreadable eye brow arch and doesn’t reply. “Right,” Danny supplies for her. “I’d like us to stay as amiable as possible.”

“It is convenient.”

Danny pops her eyebrows at the brush off, but takes it as agreement. She rubs at the tender corner of her eye, wondering if a bruise will form from where Jen’s elbow smacked her. Dropping her hand, she glances back at Carmilla, “Thank you for your help tonight. For stopping the fight. I know it wasn’t convenient.”

Carmilla hums lightly, but her gaze stays ahead of them. Danny doesn’t push it, and follows her eyes to scan the dark edge of campus coming up.

They pass the willow tree that was planted in memoriam for the people killed during the Fövaran disaster, its limbs heavy with winter, its roots quiet and sleeping. Crossing past the campus boundary, Danny and Carmilla both quiet their footsteps and keep their eyes active.

It’s not long, walking the narrow path leading into the mountains, before Carmilla lifts a hand out to her side, halting Danny’s approach. “Stop,” she demands calmly but sudden. Danny does so immediately and darts her eyes in many directions around them.

“Where?” She asks of the enemy. The evergreens lay dark and dormant alongside the path, still with snow. She does not see Carmilla begin to undress beside her, and is as surprised as she was the first time to turn around and she her cooly naked in the snow.

“I see firelight on the ridge. That’s the entrance to the tunnel.”

“You think it’s the villagers?”

“Whoever it is, they’re about to regret being there in the middle of the night.”

“What if they don’t leave?”

“I can be very convincing. Hold this,” Carmilla says, cracking her neck and ridging her shoulder blades, lengthening like a cat in the sun, and Danny, with her mouth in a small ‘o’, accepts her shirt, jeans and boots. She tucks them into the straps outside her pack, as she watches a black cloud erupt from within Carmilla, shrouding her, and she crouches down until a huge, sleek black cat appears instead.

“Probably never gonna get used to that,” Danny remarks. Carmilla the very large cat snaps her tail in the snow. Danny climbs onto her shoulders, leaning down to encircle her neck, and Carmilla flies towards the dark forest ahead of them, cutting off the trail and bounding between skeleton branches and vaulting over fallen tree trunks.

 

~~~~

 

Sascha takes a hearty bite of the jerky his brother had packed for him, ignoring the way Warin looks back at him under his ushanka fur cap, obviously wanting a compliment on its tough yet chewy texture.

“Ich hatte schon bessere, Bruder,” Sascha says to deflate him, and Warin curses him in garbled German through his chewing cheeks. Chuckling heartily across from him, Karl shifts the fire with a charred branch, brightening the flames beneath the eave of the tunnel entrance, casting dancing shadows over the half-built rock wall covering the entrance. Tomorrow they will finish the blockade from within the tunnel, and return home while planting new vampiric wards and re-securing old traps.

The snap of a branch brings all of their attention to the south corner. From the darkness, a pair of glowing yellow-green eyes looks unblinkingly at the group of men. 

Burke is the first to stand, grabbing his axe instantly. Before he attacks however, a young woman steps from the darkness, in front of the monster.

“What are you doing here?” She asks in English, her red hair billowing in the rush of winter breeze that suddenly comes though, flickering the firelight. Her eyes are narrow yet bright as she looks to the tunnel behind them.

“Das ist sie! Vampir vasall!” Sascha points, remembering seeing her flee from one rooftop to the next, held tightly by her Vampire master, both with blood on their clothes. Karl brandishes his lit branch, shaking embers at the girl, “Your Vampir, vhere is she?”

“She’s about to send you lot back home in pieces if you don’t get out of here. We can’t let you seal that tunnel.”

“Was?” Sascha asks, unable to understand her fast English tongue. He holds his sword tighter in his grip, sensing trouble. Warin translates that she wants them to leave, and he shakes his head. “We won’t let another attack go unpunished!” Sascha yells dramatically, feeling braver when his older brother steps forward too.

The girl doesn’t understand, but any reply she gives is lost anyway, covered by a loud snarl from the monster in the trees, who now exits into the firelight of the clearing. Black and huge, the cat growls again with sharp, sharp fangs lengthening under raised hackles.

From his side, Karl grabs another branch and sticks it in the fire, catching it aflame, “The earth tremors at Silas. Evil has kommen.” Hearing the gnashing of his teeth through his words emboldens Sascha, but Burke is the first to say it. “They do not pass. The tunnel must be sealed!” 

The cat jumps from Burke’s reach as he springs to attack, his broad axe swiping wide. The red-haired girl also dives out of the way, but the three men turn their attention completely on the devil cat. Sascha watches the girl roll up from the snow, fear written over her face as she watches Sascha’s Brothers engage the cat. He rushes to her, “You brought a demon to my home!”

 

Danny broadens her stance, reaching quickly for the dagger at her side - she knows a battlecry when she hears one, no matter the language. The broadsword swinging down upon her is huge, but slow, and with her blood rushing and pounding, she can see the edge where she needs to parry the strike. Metal clangs against metal, her dagger slides off, and sparks fall to the ground. She backs away, parrying another slow swing, trailing more sparks. This fighter seems younger than the rest, though his facial hair is just as impressive above his collar. With a fur-covered scarf and hat, Danny registers only his intense eyes, very vibrantly filled with hatred and fear. The emotion behind them is startling, and Danny finds herself being chased back behind the tree that held Carmilla as a sacrifice when they first encountered the tunnel. Beyond the fire, Carmilla has swiped harshly at one of the men’s packs, slicing it open and spreading and breaking vials that burst into clouds of acridly bitter miasma. It smells strongly of onion and garlic, spicing the air so heavily that Danny’s eyes water. Carmilla roars and swipes at another pack, before being ushered back by a swing of the tallest man’s axe.

Danny sees no more as she steps back over a calf-high root, nearly tripping over it. Her attacker seems clumsy in the snow with his heavy blade, but he sends powerful swings that _woosh_ past Danny. 

The yell of a man being slaughtered distracts and slips off-balance the man driving his sword forward, aimed at Danny’s stomach. Fear and adrenaline rush into Danny’s blood, and it surges her forward, slicing part of the man’s fur drapery clean off, while giving her space to seize his wrist and _twist._ The villager, sounding younger than he looks when he yelps in pain, drops his weapon to the snow, and it trips over a low root, and flips a full pace away. Danny puts herself between him and it.

He growls viciously at her, but backs up towards the fire. Hardly able to feel triumphant, however, Danny’s throat constricts when she looks back at the scene Carmilla has wrought.

A trail of blood leads off into the trees to the left, melting and painting the snow in grooves made from a dragged body. The other men are shouting, inching their way toward the darkness, weapons leading. Danny’s opponent rushes back to the fire and pulls from its edges a thick branch, short but hefty and brightly aflame in the man’s hands.

Carmilla roars, and so do the men, and Danny rushes to beat the man around the fire, darting in close to him before dropping and sliding past his side. She accidentally clips her thigh with her dagger as she throws her hand up for balance in her slide. The branch misses her but the flames feel too close in the cold air, and she cuts her hand on a buried frozen rock as she pushes herself up, reaching into the fire pit to grasp a shifting branch and pull it from the orange pyre.

Danny absently registers the sound of something heavy hitting a tree, before she ducks barely low enough to dodge a left-field swing. She pokes her own fire-branch into the man’s unguarded chest, quickly and more in an effort to scare him back, but it still catches part of his clothing, and he retreats back several paces. Danny smells burning fur. 

She stands and holds her branch in one hand, held out in a way that recalls the strong beam of an oak. The man takes the distance between them to look back at his company. He follows the trail of blood, and they both watch as the torch another man drops to darkness a second after a yell is cut short. A moment later, Carmilla emerges from the treeline, dragging a body back into firelight.

Danny is caught by the gruesome sight, his arm a mangled mess of blood and fur skins, clutched tightly between Carmilla’s maw. His head hangs lower to the ground than it would normally, because the side of his neck has been severed almost through. 

A beat too late does she register the charge, and now the young man is in her space, jabbing his lit torch at her.Danny hits his attack head on, but her branch suffers the blow and splits, half of it falling among embers to the ground. The attack is pressed, but Danny, having the longer reach and presence of mind necessary, leans back while scratching forward along his forearm to this gloved hand, catching it there and pulling him towards her, and off balance. She places a good punch against his shoulder, sending him on a twirl. 

He stumbles backward, but rights himself and comes again for an attack, and his recovery is so quick that Danny missteps over a rock, and loses focus of his trajectory. He flips his flaming piece wood to his other hand, and lunges at her again. He jabs a fake and follows with a grab, and Danny instantly chokes from the feeling of his gloved fingers clamping her trachea. She staggers back with one hand coming to vice-grip the man's wrist, her other cocks back for a punch - in her grip though is the dagger, it's blade slicing and an ascending mark through the air - 

Seeing her punch coming, the man leans his head back, but this exposes his neck - 

Blood spits across Danny's face before she can recognize the trace of the blade sliced in red under his chin.

He lets go of her neck, bring his hands to his own. His eyes accuse Danny in the dimming firelight from his branch fallen in the snow. He watches her has he sinks to his knees, then to his back.

Danny’s adrenaline burns out of her lungs as vapor in the cold air, and she stumbles a few steps backwards but doesn’t look away.

Danny hears what sounds like the loud crack-thunk of another body hitting the open embrace of a cold ash tree. The huge shadowed blur stops short of Danny, and in a puffed plume of black, dusty smoke, Carmilla reappears, naked and huffing. Danny's eyes do break away from the man she just killed, and they waver, grasping for Carmilla's still-slit pupils.

“He’s dying,” Danny says in a voice that doesn’t sound like her own.

Carmilla says nothing, just breathes through her mouth, and locks onto Danny’s eyes for a couple beats. Then her eyes are pulled, her face turns back to the man in the snow. She descends in a blur, crouching over his body suddenly. The unmistakable slurping of vampiric feeding echoes softly in the quiet and dark forest.

Danny watches Carmilla. Despite her blood still pounding through her head, the cold envelopes Danny in a sock of stillness. The burning fire crackles in Danny’s right ear, and she struggles to keep its hold on her. Danny lowers her gaze back to the man she murdered.

Through the haze that’s building in her mind, Danny registers a feeling of anger, of misunderstanding and frustration. This man had a family. He didn’t have to die tonight, and Danny was only trying to - 

No…

She narrows her eyes at a spot between the man’s boots in the snow. It feels too disingenuous, trying to rationalize this reality. This man isn’t innocent - no one is, really - but Danny can’t excuse herself. She’s taken life before, slaying just as mightily as anyone else on the night of the Sacrifice. She saw the same look of anger and fear in the eyes of the one vampire she stuck a stake into, the only difference being that a moment later, he was ash. His existence had been wiped from this plane, but there is still a man here, on the ground, dead.

Danny’s called herself a hunter for a long time now, but she never thought herself a killer. But they are one in the same. 

Danny’s eyes drift now, to the bottom left, the man leaving her sight. Feelings of disorientation, indignation, and misplaced heroism leave her woebegone in the cold.

She shudders when Carmilla grabs her wrist hard, and Danny tries to understand her.

Carmilla's eyebrow quirk while still tightly nit together, but she says again, "Give me the backpack; I want my clothes."

“Take it, “ Danny shrugs it off her shoulder. "You're very bloody,” she adds, turning away from the body.

"It happens," Carmilla replies, fitting her arms through her shirt and over her head. It covers a trail of blood glistening down her stomach. “We need to clear the tunnel, Danny,” she says, nodding to its direction as she slides one leg into her pants. With a skill practiced on game hunts, Danny kneels down to wipe her dagger free of blood in the snow, and finally sheathes it. She approaches the tunnel slowly,“They were going to seal it, and leave us trapped here.” The words sound hollow and unnecessary to Danny, but she needs to break the silence of the forest. She gets to the wall and grabs a heavy shovel leaning against the rock.

Carmilla comes up to her side, pointing at a crevice between a large rock and a smaller one. “Hit it here. Jab into it.”

Danny does so, and it shakes the still-setting boulders in the wall. She does it a few more times, crushing and shaking loose some of the rock. Carmilla holds out a hand to interrupt, “I’ve got it.”

Carmilla punches her hands straight into the wall, burying them between a large boulder. She heaves backwards, and after a moment, the rock follows her, its empty space being shifted and filled by the rocks above it. It crumbles heftily, and Danny stands further back. Danny moves to the edge of the stone wall, and swings the shovel low to break those connections. The rocks and boulders fall into the mouth of the tunnel, but no longer block it.

Carmilla picks another keystone rock piece and dislodges it, before hurling it through the air toward a cart laden with more boulders. It crashes into and destroys the cart, startling Danny. Carmilla looks back at the tunnel and surveys her work. As though feeling the blood drying on her chin, she reaches down for snow, wiping it quickly. She makes a swipe down her neck as she turns back to Danny. “Let’s go,” and starts walking before Danny can give her a reply.

Carmilla stomps the fire out and leads them past the bodies, around the ash tree where Carmilla was impaled.

Danny's feet carry her and she's focused on Carmilla walking ahead of her, but she's leaving something behind, in the snow, and there's probably no way to get it back again.

"What do we do the bodies?" Danny asks, feeling apprehensive about the answer.

“I’ll take care of it. I’m taking you home now.”

Danny doesn’t argue. But a few moments later, her mind is turning again.

"The village will probably seek retribution.”

"It bought us time."

"Carmilla - " Danny asks hesitantly. 

"What?" Carmilla fishes, sounding like she thinks Danny was about to admonish her. Danny holds no such power. Danny is so far from it, her knees feel like buckling with each step.

"Do I tell Laura?”

Carmilla is silent for several beats, and it makes Danny anxious.

“She doesn’t like secrets. But it’s not my kill to tell.” 

Danny’s feet drag in the snow, her body feels heavier. 

“Since all this started, I’ve tried to be better. I’m trying to be a better person, for her. If she thinks I’m a hero, then I want to be a hero, for her.” 

Carmilla doesn’t respond, but Danny needs her to.

“Does that make me selfish?” Danny has stopped in the middle of the path.

Carmilla stops and turns, regarding Danny. Her skin is luminous beneath the still-there stain of blood at her collarbone, her hair is dark but floats in soft curls down her shoulders. She looks as solid as Danny’s ever seen her, and she walks back with purpose, grabs Danny’s hand, and pulls her forward, continuing toward Silas.

“It makes you a fool in love.”

 

~~~~


	15. Chapter 15: Apostate (Pt 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter:   
> Surprise players reveal themselves, and doomsday looms ever closer. Meanwhile, Operation Dragoon is quite efficiently falling apart, leaving people rather uncertain about their immediate future. Carmilla comes to a disturbing realization about what’s been going on in her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 5,800

~~Chapter 15: Apostate (pt 1)~~

 

The sun this morning burns through a winter mist. Snow melts, thawing and softening the ground. LaFontaine trudges across plains of white snow and black mud, pausing at the first steps of the Summer House to kick their boot against the edge, dislodging tracks.

A Summer whose name LaFontaine thinks might be Gwen welcomes them inside and leaves them in the library, heading upstairs to fetch Danny. LaFontaine paces in front of the pinned weapons inventory on the planning board. It takes a while longer for Danny to come down from upstairs, so much so that LaFontaine has nearly built themselves up to just charge into Danny’s room and shake her awake with the news.

But Danny does come down, rounds the corner by the bookshelf, her hair disheveled and her pajamas peeking under a light blue robe.

“What is it, LaF?” Danny says, a mixture of restrained worry and disapproval at being awake. It strikes LaFontaine as strange because quite regularly, Danny is a morning person and it’s nearly 10 am.

“It’s important,” LaFontaine placates, “Or at least I think it is but I haven’t connected all the dots yet.” LaFontaine sweeps a hand to the table, indicating that they sit together.

Danny sighs, but starts pulling her messy hair up into a ponytail behind her head as she sits. “What dots?”

“The Zeta President was in the dining hall this morning,”

Danny stops pulling her hair through her band, “El Capitán?”

“Yea, that guy. He stood up on his table and made a speech about brotherhood and solidarity; and proclaiming loudly how not safe we all are.”

Danny shakes her head with crinkled eyes, “So, what? He’s come out of obscurity to soap box?”

“At a very crucial soap-boxy time. The whole place was buzzing at the sight of him, and he left with a big group of Zetas in tow.”

Danny drops her hands from her hair. “He’s sat in the shadows this whole time, why come out now? What does he want?”

LaFontaine grinds their teeth, mimicking like the words behind them are too unwelcome to be let out. “Well, the people want action, whether it be to or away from danger. They’ll listen to the loudest voice in the room; it stinks of rabble-rousing.”

“Who else was there?”

“Whoever’s left living on campus, basically. A few faculty, but they’re a little suspicious to me.” LaFontaine leans forward, “They act as if it’s business as usual, which at this point it clearly is not. Three-quarters of the student population has fled the school, I don’t understand how classes are still being held.”

“They’ve got to teach as long as they live on campus.”

“Or,” LaFontaine conspires, “the Faculty’s been bought out by ADMIN and are now the new middlemen for the Sacrifice.”

“Or maybe they’re just as at-risk as we are. If they step out of line they could be the first to the altar,” Danny says with a slight frown, but LaFontaine is not deterred.

“Ok, yea maybe. But that still leaves the Zeta President, and with the Frat being very closely tied to Silas institutions, maybe ADMIN’s got a hand in his turning up now.”

Danny seems to consider this a little more thoughtfully.“As in, El Capitán’s being told to galvanize the Zetas against us? Against Dragoon?”

“Ordered or coerced or tricked - either way, Dragoon’s the biggest upset to the status quo, so if the Zetas pull out at the last minute, ADMIN will have a much easier time kidnapping students again.”

Danny leans her elbows on the table and rests her mouth behind her clasped hands.“It’s hard for me to believe the Zetas would agree to that. They care about Zane and Kirsch, and they remember how broken he was for Sarah Jane. They don’t want any more missing students.”

“Ok. Then maybe El Capitán is acting alone, and wants to take over Dragoon himself.“ 

Danny’s forehead crinkles as her eyebrows meet in a darkly serious thought, “Or he’s after our weapons cache.”

“See? Another dot.” LaFontaine shakes their head, “I’ve got a conspiracy map pinned up in my head, it’s driving me bonkers.”

Danny lets her hands fall open on the table. LaFontaine notices for the first time the bandage wrapped around her left palm. When Danny speaks again, her voice is hoarse, “We shouldn’t be fighting amongst ourselves when the real enemy is waiting for the moment we’re most distracted. This could break all that we’ve worked for…”

Danny seems to have fallen to distraction herself, watching through the large window bay of the library, out on the yard where some Sisters are training with their new weapons. The ground is muddy from the striking drills and sparring feet.

“This is all gonna fall apart,” Danny mutters, and LaFontaine can _see_ the sinking feeling that must be crushing Danny within her chest. They try to bring her back up.

“We just need to convince the Zeta’s to stay their revolution. J.P. will figure out the connection between the High Council and the Pit, and we’ll find a way to stop Lophy from getting out. And then the Zetas can fight with the Summers to stop any demon surges that may happen.”

“I don’t want anyone to have to fight with demons. We were taught to hunt deer, not inter-dimensional evil.”

“We need someone to tell us when to run, then.”

“And leave the portal open regardless.”

“It’s an impossible situation, I get it, but it’s what we’ve gotta - “

“I can’t _do_ that,” Danny quivers, her eyes startling LaFontaine with intensity. “ _How_ can I do that when I don’t even know what _I_ should do. How can you save anyone ifyou - if…”

LaFontaine has to blink and shake their head, because there’s a lot of emotion going on suddenly and they were not prepared nor expecting that. They place a hand slowly but firmly on the corner of Danny’s shoulder.

“Hey…” LaF squints their eyes in an attempt to reach Danny’s, “Did… something happen last night? I heard about the bar fight. You seem kinda… shook up.”

“Bar fight?” Danny asks, before remembering, “Oh that, no, no. That was… Carmilla took care of that pretty quickly. Just bruised egos, mostly.”

“Something else, then?”

Danny looks very conflicted about the something else, but LaFontaine has a feeling she won’t express it.

“Look, if it’s none of my business, it’s none of my business. I’m just offering,” LaFontaine tries to ease the awkward silence, but Danny shakes her head again. She opens her mouth, then closes it, then tries again. 

“Something happened in the woods, after the bar. Carmilla, and I, we - “

But the rest of what Danny is about to say is cut off by a shrill shriek coming from the entrance hall.

All at once, footsteps are heard rushing toward the source of the alarm, to the foyer, where a homecoming is taking place. Angie, the timid friend of Jen Archer, has her arms thrown around the neck of a another woman who just stepped through the threshold.

“It’s good to be back, “ the woman with dark skin and black hair says to the blonde shoulder she is hugging, and Danny’s eyes raise in recognition. 

“What? Who is that?” LaFontaine whispers at her shoulder, quite lost.

“Anell - she graduated last year, with - “ Danny looks closer at the women behind Anell, “ - Carmen, in the red scarf, and Justine. They were headed to France to find Lisanna, our President.”

“The one that’s been ‘on mission, fulfilling a sacred obligation?’ ” LaFontaine remembers. The current Sister and the Sister Alumni finally part, and more greetings are shared between the women in the crowded entrance hall.

“Lisanna’s been gone for two years and missed her own graduation,” Danny says quietly. “Anell took on the finder’s mission, but we haven’t heard much progress. They must be here for something else.”

“One guess as to what,” LaFontaine mutters, stepping into shadow as Danny moves forward into the foyer, the eyes of the returned upon her now. LaFontaine sees the narrow shade cast briefly over Anell’s eyes as she takes in Danny in her sleep clothes.

“Danny,” Anell says, stepping forward. “I heard the honor of Vice President was bestowed to you. My late congratulations.”

“Thank you, it’s good to see you,” Danny smiles cordially before her critical thinking face comes back. “What the hell happened?”

“We received word of the situation here. We deemed our return to be a more pressing issue.” Anell’s face sobers and she nods upstairs, “We should talk.”

“We’re all gonna talk,” Danny agrees, but moves aside and motions to the library. She shrugs off her light blue robe and folds it over her arm. Raising her eyes to her other Sisters, Danny says calmly, ”No more behind-closed-doors summits. Ladies, our former VP is back, and we’re having a meeting. Now.” 

LaFontaine breathes a sigh of relief as Danny seems to have grasped a handle on herself. Everyone is swept back into the library, but LaFontaine lets Danny and her Sisters have the table. The biologist hangs out next to the large bay window, the unusually fast incoming gray clouds forming above the tree line going unnoticed as LaF pulls out their phone. What LaFontaine does notice is the tight knot high in their stomach, mildly aware of its inevitable drop as the texts informing Perry and Laura about the impromptu meeting are sent off.

 

~~~~

 

Perry arrives to the Summer House library not long after receiving LaFontaine’s message. She shuffles in next to LaFontaine at the window as quietly as she can, but the Sisters’ attention is rapt on a woman Perry isn’t familiar with, seated next to Danny at the head of the table. 

“The trail had been lost, regardless. We searched for months, but after the chateau in Normandy, we were left with the very real suspicion that Lisanna is dead. Whatever mission the Dean sent her on, killed her.”

The air in the room is stolen by several gasps, and Perry realizes she’s missed the whole recounting of the search for the Summer President. She watches Danny sink back into her chair. She looks like the fight in her has been stolen too.

“We heard rumor from of what was happening at the campus, so we abandoned the finder’s mission and headed home.”

The quiet remains over the group, but eyes are shifting now between the two women at the head of the table.

“What do we do now, Anell?” Angie asks, leaning closer to her from where she stands behind her and Danny. Anell looks at her briefly over her shoulder, nodding slightly, before addressing the room again.

“The Summer Society has been missing an acting President. With the Dean gone, the state of our charter is at risk. The Society needs leadership.”

“We have leadership,” LaFontaine speaks up. “Danny organized a joint operation between the Summers and the other students. So we follow Danny.” Perry notes LaFontaine’s brave stare at Anell, but Danny’s eyes avoid looking anywhere but the grain in the table just in front of her. Her face is stoic but her posture is still sunk to the back of her chair.

Anell nods to LaFontaine’s assurance, “Within the Sisterhood, tradition cedes authority to the Vice President, of course. Danny knows that under normal circumstances, the duties and knowledge of the President would be transferred to her, under the auspices of the Dean’s Cloister- ‘ Anell pauses to display empty hands in front of her, presenting the obvious, “ - but that is not our situation. But it seems Danny’s done a fair job of keeping us all together in the interim.”

A scoff comes from the back, and Perry remembers its owner’s disagreement from the previous meeting. Angie gives a stern look to Jen Archer across the room, but no other retorts come.

“Ok, Danny,” Anell turns to her, “What’s the best step for our Sisters going forward?”

Danny’s eyes glance quickly around the room before settling on her hands at the table. Her posture reads very tense to Perry, and unusual in this setting. Normally Danny has her shoulders squared, taking on this invisible burden, but all Perry, and anyone else sees now, is restraint and fatigue.

“Dragoon is an Alliance between students, a measure of protection and defense. The program that’s been intent on continuing the sacrifice has been stalled due to the lack of personnel to physically carry out the kidnappings, and with the Zetas’ numbers, we’ve been able to avoid those risks.”

Danny bites the inside of her cheek before continuing. “But, with the attack on two Zetas, Kirsch and Zane, the Fraternity seems to be less adamant about supporting our current plan, which is shoring up our defenses and continuing to look for a way to stop the Sacrifice and Lophiiformes, permanently.”

At the mention of the Zetas,the room stiffens. The three Alumnae keep shaking their heads, and Danny’s voice doesn’t lower, but her eyes don’t tread upward, and Perry can see her trying to convince the very grain of the wood to just wait it out, train with the new weapons from the vault, and gather more intelligence about what danger awaits them in the Pit.

Anell slams a hand flat to the table, but keeps her face reserved. Danny leans back in her chair, her eyes switching to Anell’s.

“That’s not good enough. If the Zetas are restless, then we should be too. Sisters, listen to me.” Anell’s voice quells from somewhere deeply connected to her heart, “We owe our collective existence to the charter that serves Silas University. That charter allows us our hunts, it caters to our honor and keeps us bound in the most sacred of ways. If we are to hunt down the escaped demons of hell, then so be it - You are my Sisters, and I fight _with_ you. And we protect each other as we’ve always done.”

“You can’t guarantee anyone’s safety in a war, which is what awaits us in that Pit,” Danny argues.

“We won’t need to wage war if we seal the Pit before it erupts.”

“That’s what we’re trying to do!” LaFontaine exclaims. “We just need more time!”

“You’re wasting time, “ Anell moves a hand in front of her as though swiping the very idea away. “The University has answers for us, and there is just one person at the top now, and no vampire cabal to guard him.”

There is nodding and the sharing of glances within the small room. “You can make him talk,” Angie says from Anell’s side, her eyes passionate.

“He sent those two Zeta’s to get brain-sucked by the Library, he’s not innocent,” adds Jen Archer from the back. Perry sees a bruise has formed along her eye and cheek. “He knows more than we do, at this point.”

Anell looks to Danny, but Danny just waves her hand dismissively, letting her carry on. Perry’s neck twitches.

Leaning over the table, Anell gathers them again, “There are secrets about the Lustig that only our President knows, and the Dean had no problem with letting those secrets disappear with Lisanna. We have a duty to our lost Sister, to each other - It’s time we demanded answers, with our swords and arrows as our appeal.”

Danny has no rebuttal. Anell seems to pity her. Perry imagines that stings worse.

“You named this organization Dragoon, correct?” Anell asks gently, turning fully in her seat towards Danny.

“Yea,” Danny clears her throat but avoids Anell’s eyes, “Yes. Like a cavalier; like  knights devoted to a single cause,” Danny says, her gaze shifting to the bookshelf.

“Like the intimidation of the Calvary,” Anell nods, pushing her elbow into Danny’s forearm, but she still doesn’t look back. The Alumni turns back to rest of the group, “Let’s talk about this Superintendent.”

The shadows in the room seem to darken as the conversation turns towards ultimatum crafting - few have much information to share on the Superintendent, and Perry chooses to remain silent. She’s in a room full of frustrated and angry and powerful women - she avoids the confrontation and instead focuses on LaFontaine’s hand, which she grasps without looking up. She can feel LaFontaine’s eyes on her though.

“LaFontaine, would you like to help me in the kitchen?”

“Are we stress baking?” LaFontaine asks simply, leaning closer into their bubble, where no one else can hear either of them, and Perry’s pounding heart stumbles to slow down.

“Yes. I need sugar cookies. Maybe _speculoos_.” 

“Lead the way, then,” LaFontaine says while standing. They nod silently to Danny’s curious eyes, then holds onto Perry’s arm with both hands, dutifully following her into the Summer House kitchen space, and Perry is so grateful to have them there.

LaFontaine looks back over their shoulder, nodding an affirmation that they are alone, and moves to find mixing bowls.

“So, be honest with me. Things are falling apart, right?” Perry busies her hands under the running water of the tap, but her voice is tight, as is her jaw. She nods, “Things are _not going well_.”

LaFontaine shrugs, but Perry notices it’s subdued. “It’s starting to sound very ‘war-makey,’ yea. They want revenge against the Dean but they’re gonna take it out on the Super.”

“Hmmph! I wish he wasn’t so useless,” Perry sighs with fatigue. “I trusted him, and I thought he wanted to help us! And what has he done?”And Perry turns suddenly away from LaFontaine, needing to look out the window and see far, far beyond herself, in order to actually _see._

_I was waiting for him to save us._

The thought burns through Perry’s body, melting her spine and heating even her ears. How foolish, to be kept under a spell for so long. How terribly dangerous. She trusted a stranger to come to their rescue, but all he really did was usher Kirsch and Zane into a trap.

Her fingers grasp very, very tightly to the edge of the counter. LaFontaine is at her side, a hand on her lower back, instantly. Perry steers her thoughts to action. She sets her tools, whisk and measuring cups, on the countertop.

“Danny is crumbling under all this pressure, I can see it. She’s the only one who’s been able to keep the in-fighting under control - if she’s losing it - “

LaF turns to a cabinet behind them, opening the pantry. “I know, Perr, we’re doing all we can. She’s just… tired. She needs our help.” They bring back a sack of sugar, “Here.” LaFontaine’s eyebrows pop seriously, looking to the task at hand, and Perry lists off ingredients for LaFontaine to fetch.

Perry mixes her dry ingredients, the repetitive kneading and fluffing like second nature to her hands. “I trust Danny, and we’ll talk to her after the meeting. But we should consider our options.”

“Options?” LaFontaine prepares a baking pan, “You mean our evacuation?”

“The rumor mill is turning at maximum capacity. The students that are left in our dorm halls have amassed emergency packs, and I get asked several times a day when we are leaving.”

“I get that. I wish I had an answer. But I don’t even know where we can go. Danny doesn’t want us using the tunnel, you can tell that much just by how stiff she gets when people bring it up.”

Perry finally stops bustling. She puts her hands down on the counter, and turns her head to gaze at her best friend. “But when the time comes, you’ll leave with me, right?”

LaFontaine visibly struggles, but not for long. They mirror Perry’s pose at the counter, sliding fingers to cover Perry’s, “Whatever happens, we’ll be together. I’ll stay by your side.”

 

~~~~

 

Carmilla’s body, her mind, her unblessed soul, all ache with weariness. The last few hours in particular were rough, despite the nourishment she stole from the fallen men.

Carmilla had escorted Danny home, as she promised. When Danny hesitated at the steps of the Summer House, Carmilla touched her shoulder, her fingers crusted brown with old blood, Danny’s puffed jacket sleeve slumping under the pressure. It seemed Danny couldn’t meet her eyes, her sad blues rested on the ground just in front of Carmilla. Silently, Carmilla pushed her forward, and Danny ascended into the house. Carmilla waited until she could see Danny’s room light come on.

Carmilla did not rest. She returned to the woods, the pre-dawn shadowing her work, at a time carrying for a certain distance two bodies, then cycling back to retrieve the others, all the way back to campus, to her best determination of where to take them. Groaning under the weight of the dead man on her shoulder, the other lifeless form smelling and staining the front of her shirt in her cradled grasp, she curses the cart near the tunnel, broken by her own stone’s throw, useless.

She returns finally to dorm room 307 after the sun has risen. Laura is still asleep under a blanket of stillness, and Carmilla leans her lips away from her forehead before she ends up pulling Laura back to reality - Carmilla wishes to gift her with escape for just a while longer. She locks herself in the bathroom, and begins to cleanse the previous night away. Her mind wanders, her thoughts full.

Mother’s voice is lofty in her memory, like a dark cloud.

 

_“For a soul with an eternity to spare, you exhibit a peculiar impatience for moving from one amusement to the next,” Mother remarks, as Carmilla taps her foot across her knee, bouncing her flounced skirt hem distractingly. “If you could slow down, you might be able to make an observation or two,_ **_”_ ** _she chastises off-handedly._

_“Sounds tedious,” Carmilla drawls under her breath. Mother hears her anyway, and imperceptibly slices a line of seams of Carmilla’s formal dress as she moves her hands from clasped politely to leaning upon her seat. None of the other richly-dressed social members or hired staff notice the exchange. They wouldn’t know how truly sharp Mother’s nails were, until they were wrapped around their very necks. Carmilla pulls at the fabric and the hole grows larger by a fraction._

_“We’re here to play the game, it would do to know the rules. There are opportunities to seize and knowledge to be gained.”_

_Maman puts a hand on Carmilla’s knee to draw her attention to the man she just nodded at. He wears a suit that looks worn around the edges, he doesn’t hold himself very tall within it. He doesn’t stand a chance._

_“Dawdling in your forever is quite meaningless,” gracefully Maman stands,up and away, smoothing her golden gown. Carmilla fakes a breath out of habit and sits up, obediently watching for the lesson that’s about to take place._

_Carmilla can’t remember his name, but she knows he’s an elected leader of the local town in Silas, and she knows her Mother will convince him (somehow, without threatening his life) that while the University may, from time to time, host any number of social experiments and scientific research projects, the concern of the townspeople is neither needed nor encouraged. Mother steers her quarry here and there, carefully maneuvering away from those who may interrupt their conversation. Carmilla remembers feeling very bored. Feeling impatient._

 

“Guess that lesson didn’t take,” Carmilla remarks dully under her breath, but it still echoes in the shower, warm with mist. Catching herself thinking out loud, Carmilla shakes her head and lifts her leg to balance against the wall of the shower, reaching around her thigh to scrape clear a path of skin with her razor. Angling in this way makes her hip hurt. She will eat after this.

She’s impatient with shaving, slicing as quickly as she dares with Laura’s white razor, the blue ‘moisturizing’ goop leaving trails along her glistening skin. She’s impatient with ordering fast food, when she deigns to want it . She hates lines, the queues that inevitably form following the release of class. She hates even more when people keep talking when they really should have stopped. She hates small talk, which just wastes time.

The only thing she’s really patient with, she thinks, is Laura. With Laura, she wishes for time to slow down.

Carmilla’s mouth twitches in annoyance as she pulls the blade away from her skin, revealing a thin cut materializing in red just over her patella. It bleeds, quickly dripping to the shower floor, following a compact line flowing over her calf.

She puffs through her nose and brings her leg down, cupping her hand over her knee. She’ll definitely need to eat after this.

She uses her foot to sweep the blood and some of her hair into the drain. It takes her a moment to decide, but she does reach out of the stall to the toilet, grabs a handful of tissue, and uses it to grasp and pull the hair from the drain. It’s not clean, but it’s not a mess, and Carmilla thinks that’s the best she can/will do.

She gets out of the shower, wraps an adhesive over her knee and decides to wear her last pair of clean black jeans to bed, unwilling to let Laura see her leg.

The Cupcake is stirring, so Carmilla runs a hand over the body under sheets as she passes, going to the closet for her jeans before kneeling down to the mini fridge. Carmilla can only grunt in response to Laura’s sleepy but chipper, “Morning,” because the fridge is full of chocolate snacks but lacking in even one blood bag. Carmilla’s stomach tries to yank itself off Carmilla’s interstitial muscles, to fall to her feet. Irritation bubbles in her veins, instead of the energy that should have been stored up from feeding on the dying man in the snow. The peculiarity of the situation eludes her, her mind choosing instead to question why she let herself be tamed to a more “harmless” feeding practice.

Laura is oblivious to her partner’s suffering, mechanically shuffling to the bathroom for a shower. Aching and angry, Carmilla flops to her bed to retrieve her phone, bitter about having to follow the rules dictating her feeding schedule.

Her call goes unanswered to LaFontaine. Carmilla groans into her mattress, tightens her fists against the sheets and lets her fangs stretch out, catching on loose threads. When she lifts her head up, her hair falls messily in front of her eyes, her jaw hangs ajar and she runs her tongue over the tips of her fangs.

She remembers seeing Mother do the same action, in the privacy of her office, trying to convince Carmilla how to let go of a dead heart, trying to entice her to new pursuits, to new challenges.

Carmilla so dislikes the image’s similarity, she uses her fingers to roughly push her fangs back to docility. She ends up splitting skin at the tips of her thumb and forefinger. She sucks in her cheek with deep irritation, fixating on the droplets.

She curses her Mother for her predicament. 

She curses herself for being weak.

Carmilla moves herself to sit over the edge of the bed, letting her elbows support her weight on her knees. Peculiarly, the movement sends a rush to Carmilla’s head, filling it with fog. Her ears fill with the white noise of Laura’s shower running, but it grows louder and louder.

Sweet-smelling blossoms of cherry scent the air suddenly, and Carmilla feels a grip on her heart when ethereal white-blonde hair floats past her vision, blossom petals falling to nothingness past the ground below her. The white noise and fog have escaped from within Carmilla to envelope her now in hallucination.

Words, both foreign sounding and meaning-filled, bounce between the edges of Carmilla’s skull. She knows the name of her feline transformation, knows the trigger as the burning sensation at the apex of her brain stem. She feels that same sensation burn as newer words float across her mind, making themselves known through the fog. She speaks, in her mind, the word for _smoke,_ and ink black tendrils float off her shoulders. She speaks the word _fire_ and sparks of white hot energy flicker from her fingertips. When her mind speaks of _speed_ , she shakes her head with frighteningly ferocity, but it does not shake off the strange twilight zone she has found herself in.

Stepping outside of herself, Carmilla observes the hunch of her shoulders, the weight of her body sinking the edge of the bed. The width and length of the small dorm, the light from the window and the ever-present glow of Laura’s desktop computer. The vampire is simultaneously tethered and free, present and absent. Carmilla exists, but doesn’t. She is inter-dimensional, aware of her presence in the dormitory, but also seeing herself floating through an empty space. Engaging that fire at the apex of her spine again, she tries a new word, _fly,_ but it does nothing but make her bones quiver, so she shakes her head and lets herself fall back to earth, sits back in her body.

Suddenly, Mother is there. She stands in front of Carmilla, in front of Laura’s bed; she floats in the empty space where the petals were falling through. She bursts into Carmilla’s mind, yelling and saying nothing and pulling and pushing, and Carmilla brings her hands to her head, crushing her fingertips to her scalp. She is toxic, running acid like blood through Carmilla’s veins and trying to burst through her heart and out of her chest. 

_Return to me_

Carmilla is released just as suddenly as she was attacked. The relief comes out in shuddering breaths, and Carmilla stands to shake her head, her limbs, free of the terrible, terrifying feeling of having Maman rot her from within. Carmilla’s hunger helps anchor her, but her thoughts remain elsewhere. She looks to the window, an overcast gray sky shaded purple towards the east.

Carmilla knows where she must go. She stands still, struggling to vanquish the fear held in her clenched fists.

 

~~~~

 

Several moments later, Laura calls from the bathroom, her voice ringing with passive aggression. "I just don't understand why the bathmat has to be sopping wet whenever it's my turn for a shower. It's just weird how, every time, I step out of the shower and into a puddle."

Laura emerges from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around herself, and finds Carmilla’s back turned, gazing out the window. Laura adds, “It’s a little counterproductive, y’know?” 

She can’t see her expression, so the little hum that comes from Carmilla gives her no context about whether she’s actually listening or not.

She walks to the closet, and with her back to Carmilla, she drops her towel to the floor, her skin flushed from the hot shower but assaulted by cooler air. She pulls a t-shirt over her head, and slips her legs through a pair of simple boy shorts. She pouts when she spies that Carmilla is not ruffled.

“I’m not trying to lecture. I’m just looking for a little bit of respect. I grew up a certain way and certain things make me feel comfortable, and as part of our roommate clause, you might consider at least trying."

“…trying?”

Curious about her somber tone, Laura looks closer at Carmilla. She notices her boots on her feet, her black hair still wet at the ends from her earlier shower, the tips heavy against her black leather jacket. 

“Are you going somewhere?” Laura asks, unsure if they had agreed that today they’d cut class and lay around together, or if she had dreamed that.

Carmilla’s head turns slightly toward Laura, who comes closer then, but Carmilla’s eyes are locked to the view outside. Laura sees the tired, dark circles sinking into Carmilla’s cheeks.

“I’ve been trying so hard,” Carmilla’s voice cracks over the ‘o’, but it drawls on. “I tried ignoring it. I tried listening to it. It’s exhausting, I’ve never felt this used up - “

Worry taking over her, Laura steps to the mini fridge, “Are you hungry?”

“I’m always hungry,” Carmilla complains, but doesn’t turn still. She must have already confirmed their lack of blood supply, the fact of which pains Laura immensely. How could she have forgotten?

“Let’s call LaF - “

“I have to go, Laura,” Carmilla interrupts, sighing it heavily and finally turning. “I only waited to say goodbye.”

The words sound so cold in Laura’s ears, they trickle ice down to Laura’s lungs.

“Wh-where?” Laura skips on the question, as a million different other ones pop into her head at once.

“The Pit. I have to face my Mother,” Carmilla says.

“What do you mean?” Laura asks indignantly. “She’s not there, I’ve been there. I stared into the abyss, Carm, and it’s just a dumb abyss.”

“We know it’s a portal.”

“So what, you’re just gonna _jump in?_ ”

“I’ve done it before.”

“Carmilla.”

“She’s suffocating me, Laura. And she won’t stop - not until I stop her.”

“Carm, your mother is gone. She’s dead, babe… I have to believe that.”

“She haunts me Laura. None of you are safe.”Carmilla’s gaze leaves Laura and finds the window again.

“How is leaving me again going to keep me safe?!” Laura feels frustration edge into her words and it makes her feel helpless.

“I thought you wanted me to be a hero.”

“I want _you!_ I want you to be _alive_!”

Carmilla moves quickly, shoving Laura up against the kitchenette counter space with her body. Laura feels a deep stretch when her back bends over the counter as Carmilla holds her close, hips to hips, but keeps their chests apart.

“She lives in a very dark and deep part of me. I can’t be whole with her still in it, so I need to purge her from myself. I’m doing this for you, but _I’m_ the one that _needs_ to do it. Do you understand?”

Laura’s eyes are shining with the grey from the window. “I just got you back. I don’t want you to go.”

Carmilla’s eyes break from hers. They trail down Laura slowly, followed by Carmilla’s hand. Her fingers skip and catch lightly over her t-shirt, but when they touch the skin of Laura’s hip, they hold tight again.

“I am desperate to keep you. You make me feel desperate.”

Laura’s hands, finally fighting the fear that kept them at the counter edges, shoot to Carmilla’s neck and ear, bury themselves under damp inky curls. Carmilla kisses her with just as much intensity, and her hips push her further into the countertop.

But Carmilla pulls away sharply, “I have to do this.” She pushes, hard, against Laura’s stomach as she steps back.“Do _not_ follow me. I love you.” 

And Laura’s eyes don’t blink but they still can’t catch Carmilla’s face as she blurs to the door, opens it, and rushes out. The still-broken door slams quickly and hangs slightly off its hinges, but Laura is the one that feels like falling down in Carmilla’s wake.

 

~~~~


	16. Chapter 16: Apostate (Pt2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter:
> 
> The pressure mounts, Danny is crumbling, Carmilla is sacrificing, and Laura just really needs a hug. And some kissing (she gets some).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 7,200

 

~~Chapter 16: Apostate (Pt 2)~~

 

Kirsch, trudging behind El Capitán amidst a large group of Zetas, rubs at his shoulder under his dark green cloak, the special one used only in ceremonies and the start-of-term hazing ritual. The thud of boots and clanking of armored bracers and shin guards echoes in the stillness of the campus road. 

The overcast sky blocks out the afternoon sun, making the ΖΩM of his silver bracer look gloomy. Gingerly, he swaps left hand for right to hold his trident, one of only a handful formerly decorating the Zeta Omega Mu Frat halls, and one that was placed into his care by his President. With the weight of his Fraternity in his hand and on his forearms, his uses his gloved palm to smear a shine back into the silver bracer.

He feels stressed out, like the stress before midterms when he’s got this unbearable feeling that some question is gonna come up outta nowhere and make him feel really dumb. As they begin to cross a field between roads, Kirsch follows the indents in the snow left by El Capitán’s boots, and tries to remember recent events, the ones that might be important.

It was probably an important moment when the President of Zeta Omega Mu came to his room on Sunday night, after the whole Library fiasco. Kirsch struggles to rebuild the scene, having been dealing with a powerful headache at the time. Zane was with him, sitting on Will’s empty bed (which Zane said he would start sleeping on that night), and they both shared the same confused but awe-struck look when El Capitán - Erik Higa, that’s his real name - apologized to them both, kneeling on one knee in the middle of the room.

Beneath his thin but shiny golden-seaweed crown, his straight black hair fell in a fringe in front of his almond-shaped and sincere-looking eyes. He said he was relieved to hear they both had made it out alive, and that there wouldn’t be another addition to the plaque of fallen Zetas. Kirsch remembers the bittersweet look in Erik’s eyes, when Will was mentioned, and it rang true in Kirsch’s spotty memory that Will would often meet with El Capitán, especially before and after big parties or the goat sacrifice. Knowing now that Will meant to keep the fraternity under the Dean’s heed, Erik admitted that he was encouraged to embrace celebration, and let the occasional chaos at Silas be considered normal. But this had allowed for the kidnappings.

Kirsch remembers the feeling in his chest when he heard those words, and the hole where Sarah Jane lives in his heart quivered.

Kirsch pulls at the strap and clasp of his arm bracer again, the metal stealing the warmth from his skin. The Summer Society house comes into view around a stand of skeletal oak trees, and a prickling of guilt slides down Kirsch’s belly. He wonders if Danny might see it as a betrayal, for the Zetas to come marching in, as they are, and demand the evacuation to begin.

It’s important that we save ourselves while we still can, Erik had said to Kirsch, in his small dorm with a roommate space still vacant, save the small number of personal items Zane had added during their late-night bonfire planning sessions (of which Kirsch remembers very little detail).

The evacuation will save the students, even if it may be a perilous journey. Kirsch wishes he could have explored the tunnel with Danny when he had the chance, but resigns himself to trust in the Zeta President.

He’s not sure why El Capitán gave him that letter to present to the Sisters, but if Kirsch knows anything, it’s that things change, all the time, and this thing will probably save a lot more students than not. He hopes Danny knows it too.

Suddenly Zane hits Kirsch’s uninjured arm (Kirsch wonders if that’s why Zane always walks on his right) and points wordlessly across the way.

From a pine-guarded pathway between the trees, the Superintendent emerges with a gray coat wrapped around his body. Both Kirsch and Zane stop, but El Capitán and his nearest companion continue their conversation, and only halt when the Super stops in the middle of the road, across from the Summer House.

“Hello. Are we going to the same place?” The Superintendent nods his head to the front yard.

Kirsch watches Erik’s gold crown and trident glint as he nods and lifts his ceremonial weapon toward the Super.

“You might wanna watch your step. You’re mighty close to two armies just waiting for a common enemy to come forth.”

“On the contrary, I come as friend, not foe.”

“We’ll see about that,” El Capitán taunts bravely, while Kirsch feels shame tighten his shoulders as he steps a little further back. The new position however gives Kirsch a clear view of the forest to his right, where movement has caught his eye - and its Laura this time, coming out from the trees and texting furiously.

“Laura?” Kirsch calls, because she is about to walk head-long into the throng of Zetas in the road, and she looks up like a cat caught with a string. “Oh!” is all she can gasp, as she transforms from caught-cat into deer-in-headlights when her eyes take in the Superintendent standing not far from her.

“Miss Laura Hollis, I presume?” The Super walks over and extends his hand. “Your videos and your reputation precedes you. All very impressive.” And although Laura nods slowly and tries to bite a smile into her cheek Kirsch can see that Laura is as lost as he is.

“Will you join us? The Zeta Brothers and I are on our way to discuss the various imminent dangers on campus with the Summer Society Sisters.” He lifts his hand and gestures politely to the Summer House.  “Perhaps we should go inside, it’s a bit chilly out here.”

Laura just nods, which is probably what Kirsch would have done, and slowly the whole group enters the front yard of the Summer Society, eyeing each other and the Superintendent the whole way. That is, until sudden movement draws everyone’s attention to the porch.

LaFontaine comes rushing out of the door with a plastic spatula, shouting at the Super, “You’re awfully outnumbered here, pal!” Perry rushes behind them, flour and sugar patterned on a borrowed apron, and she puts a hand on LaF’s shoulder.

Coming to a halt just before the steps, the Superintendent puts up his hands in a show of tranquility, “Just a discussion, I’m not here as an authority figure. I wasn’t meant to be one, anyway.” LaFontaine sneers at him, and then looks to his side, where Laura stands, and Kirsch sees them exchange some kind of non-verbal message.

The Super probably saw it too, because he turns now to Laura, “I understand that tensions are high with my being here. Can you organize a meeting? I’ll wait outside.”

Danny comes out at just that moment, a stern look on her face, “And this is, what, exactly?” She spares a glance to Laura, that same non-verbal look, and Kirsch guesses it might be a simple, _are you ok?,_ but then Danny looks right at Kirsch, and his face falls when he sees her eyes narrow at his trident. He gets a different non-verbal look, and it makes his stomach churn.

_What the hell are you doing?_

Kirsch verbally responds, “The Zetas want to evacuate. I think the Superintendent wants to help.” And he looks at the man, catching his eye, “But I don’t think we trust him.”

“No, we don’t,” El Capitán steps up past Kirsch, side-eyeing the Superintendent. “But it doesn’t matter because we’re leaving anyway. We’re just here to let you know, and to take our share of those weapons you’ve got lying around.”

“I think not, Broseph,” and that’s a woman that Kirsch isn’t familiar with, but she stands tall and proud like a Summer Hunter. She brushes off El Capitán’s assent on the stairs, and instead looks down upon the Superintendent.

“We were just talking about you, sir. We’ve got questions.”

“I have answers to some of them, I hope. May we discuss it inside?”

“Except, we don’t trust you either. Whatever you’ve got to say, you can say it in front of us all, out here.”

The Super doesn’t argue, but looks around at the crowd that is forming - Sisters packing together on the front porch and leaning out of opened windows, Zetas standing in the snow that is quickly melting under crunching boots and body heat.

“These are dire times,” the Super begins, looking around the crowd of angry and distrustful students. “You are aware, of course,” he waves a hand airily.

“I’m here merely to provide what information I can. It is my conviction that the students of this campus have been woefully misinformed, far past the point of danger, and I want to let you all know what the situation is that you are facing.”

The Sisters leaning out of windows and peering over the railings of balconies lean and peer with more vigor. Then the Superintendent turns, looking back toward the Zeta-crowded yard, and finds Kirsch’s eyes. Zane stands close behind Kirsch, not yet holding or hitting his arm in his usual comforting gesture, but his presence brings a clarity to the storm of fear and misunderstanding that surrounds Kirsch as he stares back at the man who sentenced him to a brain drain.

“There have been no more kidnappings or attempts on student lives, after this last weekend. This is not by my grace, but rather by a lack of personnel to carry out the wishes of the Silas Administration Board. I have told this already to the university’s remaining staff, but I encourage those students that want to leave, should.”

He nods toward El Capitán, but the tall, dark, and scowling Summer interrupts loudly, so that everyone may hear her.

“No, we aren’t leaving just yet,” she says. “Dragoon will be making a stand at the Pit, and _you_ are gonna help us seal it, once and for all.”

“While admirable, your plan is impossible. I have no power to seal the portal. The Dean alone holds that key.”

“The Dean’s dead.”

“It’s possible, but she is more likely trapped, as the Guardian cannot leave its obligation, and I suspect the portal would have sealed itself if the Dean had truly perished. I believe she is simply biding her time.”

Glances are exchanged, some more intently than others, and Kirsch sees fear in Laura’s wide eyes, and Danny’s narrowed scowl.

“Ultimately,” the Super goes on, “ the Lustig Portal is a doorway, and with Lophiiformes slowly losing strength, it is most likely the Dean will resurface soon, and with a wrath I cannot imagine. I strongly suggest you evacuate.”

The Super then steps up one stair to address Laura and Danny, “But first, I need to find Carmilla Karnstein.”

“What for?” Laura asks rigidly.

“She plays a crucial role this evening, I’d like her to play her part.”

“Who’s to say she hasn’t been playing a part this whole time?”

Danny’s arms uncross and she yells at her Sister, “Anell, she’s not the enemy here!” But Anell doesn’t back down.

“Her mother is the leader of the local Vampire Cult, there’s no denying the possibility that she’s still working for her, especially if she aims to return.”

“Hey, have you _met_ her Mother?” LaFontaine asks with quite a bit a judgement in their voice. “Look, Carmilla jumped in after the Dean at the Pit. I saw it with my own eyes - she made a _huge_ sacrifice for us, ok?,” LaFontaine’s eyes quickly breeze over the crowd, but they stop at Laura’s - “She’s cool.”

“That doesn’t make her exempt from suspicion. She’s made a reputation here.“ Murmurs and nods are expressed by the crowd. Someone from the windows above yells weakly, “She’s scary!”

“She’s not like that anymore,” Laura tries to defend, but her face falls because that sounded more whiny than maybe it was meant to be. Kirsch feels bad for her, and his jaw clicks. Laura looks to Danny for help, but Danny looks like she wants to shrug, her neck sinking a little deeper between her shoulders, “She’s done a lot to prove herself. She’s loyal - “

“You’re trying to turn the Sisterhood into some clubhouse for the very same vampire that _kidnapped one of our own -_ “

“Being a vampire doesn’t make her evil!” Danny defends with more strength than they’ve seen all morning. “She’s made mistakes, but so have we. And she still thought we were worth saving; shouldn’t we think the same of her?”

Anell looks at Danny with disbelief, “At the risk of your fellow Sisters? Absolutely not.”

Danny is quiet now, and Kirsch gets it, because he doesn’t think Carmilla is very defendable, not with this crowd anyway. He sees his Brothers shifting in the snow, people are hitching their packs to their shoulders, anxious to get out of here.

“We’ve been lied to, we’ve been hunted.” Anell turns her back on Danny and addresses the crowd of Sisters spilling out from the house. “No more. We stand, we fight if we must. We do not flee, and we trust only ourselves.”

“Yeaa, sorry!” Erik stomps up the steps to stand level with Anell.  “Sorry, but El Capitán has spoken and the Zetas are issuing the evacuation order. Nobody’s fighting anything, we’re all just gonna get the hell out.”

“Cowards.”

“Idiots!” El Capitán fires right back - and that starts the rabble, roused and tossed across the yard and porch like volleys of hot ash, the insults spraying over them and making everyone blink hard at their neighbor. Kirsch is jostled at his left, and it sparks a pain through his shoulder.

Kirsch realizes he’s been waiting  for Danny to step up and tell everyone to stop arguing. He sees LaFontaine move forward to hit Danny’s elbow, but Danny shakes her head and steps aside, her shoulders sagging after finally making that shrug. Kirsch feels a twinge that tenses all the muscles in his neck and shoulders, so he shrugs too.

No one can hear anything, but Kirsch and Danny and Laura follow when the Superintendent pushes both Anell and El Capitán through the throng of people and into the Summer House foyer, which is still crowded, but less-filled with insults. After Anell expresses her outrage and disapproval of the Super barging into the House, she rounds again on El Capitán.

“That portal opens, the campus will be overrun by demons and monsters and who knows what else,” Anell charges. “You expect us to outrun demons?”

“You expect to defeat them with bows and arrows?”

“You’ve never been shot by me.”

“Oh shove off with your bravado. And who’s gonna fight the giant anglerfish god? Who’s got the pointy stick that can kill that?”

The Super finally interrupts the back-and-forth, “Human weapons are mostly useless against a demi-god. But if you’ll listen, I have something of a plan. And it involves that dagger at your hip, Ms. Lawrence.”

Everyone’s attention goes to Danny, and Danny’s hand goes to her dagger, before she unsheathes it slowly. She seems, like Kirsch, to take a moment to examine its beauty. The blade shines sharp, the intricate carvings in the metal telling some sort of story or fable, and the handle glitters with black and red shiny orbs. Danny finally asks, “Do you know what it is?”

“An Artifact that could be used as a summoning totem. An anchor between dimensions. And our best hope for all this ending in our favor.”

He holds out his palm, but Danny doesn’t move. The Super nods and drops his hand.

“The pieces are falling into place, but the situation still remains delicate. I myself can see the aura around the artifact now, and it furthers my conviction that this strategy could work. You are not wrong to be wary of me, but what I offer is in the sincerest of gestures.”

Danny still struggles to give it up. “How did you know that I had it?”

“Activation usually requires some sort of blood offering. I have a device that can detect such a sacrifice if it happens nearby. It is coincidence that has led me here, in search of Carmilla, and to find the Artifact in your care.

“I will not stand in the way of your plans, Sisters - and Brothers, “ he adds with a nod to El Capitán and Kirsch, “but it is because the passion of the people will drive them relentlessly to the edge of reason, that I offer what aid I can to reveal the truth.”

“What are you saying, man?” Anell steps up impatiently. “You gonna help us close the Pit, or what?”

“Again, I don’t possess that power. But what I can do, with that dagger, is summon another fighter in our place. With the Artifact as an anchor, I can issue a call to any number of inter-dimensional beings beyond the door of the Lustig, but I have one in particular - “

“You’re gonna _summon_ something from the Pit?! The one thing that none of us wants to happen?” Anell cries.

 The Superintendent continues undeterred.“If I can convince the Cormorant Phalacroe to act as aegis, we’ll have a weapon against Lophiiformes. Otherwise, there will be nothing to stop the demi-god of light from devouring all the minds it can find. I imagine it is quite hungry by now.”

Anell lifts her hands in capitulation and turns toward the stairway, while El Capitán crosses his arms in front of him and faces his Brothers outside.

The crowd has grown quiet, trying to listen to the huddle at the foyer. People are sniffling, from the cold air, or colder thoughts.

The Super stretches out his palm again to Danny,  “May I ask how you acquired it?”

Danny is pulled from the collective nightmare, blinking once before saying, “It was Carmilla. She was gone for 3 days to Croatia, and she found it there. She gave it to me when she came back, and I’ve had it with me ever since.”

The Super exams the blade, his eyes shifting behind his small-framed glasses, where light shimmering from the blade is reflected. “Where is Carmilla Karnstein?”

Laura finally speaks up, “She said she was going to the Pit, but I passed it on my way here, and she’s not there.” Laura bites her lip over her next words. “She’s on the warpath against her Mother.”

Someone pushes politely through the crowd behind Kirsch, so he steps closer to Laura to allow Josef the Alchemist to join them. Josef’s protege comes up to his shoulder, standing at her tallest and what Kirsch thinks, her bravest.

“Carmilla Karnstein visited me this morning. She left the Alchemy Club a rather gruesome gift.”

“What?” asks more than one voice.

“Four bodies, badly mauled. She gave me no explanation, saying only they were ‘a gift for science.’ “

“Who were they?”

“I don’t know. Not students or University affiliates, that I could recognize anyway. But I discovered something unusual when I inspected them further.”

“What?” asks another round of many voices.

“Bite marks, on each of the men. Vampiric, and just above the heart.” Kirsch’s eyes fly to Danny, and Laura, and back to Danny, because Danny looks pale like she might be sick, but her eyebrows are so low over her eyes that she might also be having the world’s worst migraine. There’s definitely confusion on everyone’s face.

El Capitán argues, “Bringing us back to the topic of the Dean’s daughter, why have we been letting a known vampire run free all this time? No one knew she had left to retrieve _a weapon?_ No one is keeping tabs on when and how she feeds?”

“She doesn’t need a babysitter, she’s one of us,” LaFontaine defends again.

“She most definitely is not,” Anell bites back.

“Carmilla gets her blood from the campus hospital supply,” Laura asserts further.  “She doesn’t kill to feed anymore.”

“Carmilla killed those men, yes,” Danny interrupts, “But not to feed on them.”

Laura looks up at Danny, but Danny won’t look back at Laura. She holds a hand up when the dark-skinned Summer Hunter opens her mouth, “Anell, please.” She looks back to Josef.  “I was with her last night. Those four men were trying to seal the tunnel. We told them to stop, and they attacked. It was self-defense.” Danny’s gaze shifts from Josef to the Super to Anell, but she still avoids Laura, and Kirsch, and it hurts him a little.

“Well, there’s some truth to that, I think,” Josef speaks up, pinching the bridge of his glasses higher up his nose. “The bite marks are inconsistent with a struggle, are quite delicate in fact. Whenever the feeding took place, these men were already unconscious, maybe even asleep.”

Danny looks very pale and still isn’t looking at Laura, even when Laura’s hands wrap around Danny’s wrist and elbow.

“May I take this, Danny? I must find Carmilla,” the Super urges, and Danny bites her lip but nods. She releases the dagger into the Super’s hands, then turns away and pushes through the crowd - but Laura’s not letting go, so they travel through a slowly parting sea of people to go upstairs.

Anell huffs at their retreat and turns back to her Sisters.

“Look. If you want to leave with the evacuation, fine - but you do so without your title as Sister. No one will stop you, and the charter’s punishment for desertion is null and void at this point. But for those who are truly my Sisters - this is our rebirth by fire.” A murmuring of agreement floats amongst the Sisters in the hall.

“Anyway, the rest of us are leaving before the whole place burns to the ground. Josef!” Erik nods to the Alchemist next to Kirsch, and they watch as Josef nods back to El Capitán in agreement, and pulls up his sleeve to reveal his own silicone wrist band from the bonfire party. Squeezing a purplish, bulbous orb connected to the band, a small _pop_ sounds, and the bracelet slowly bleeds with the same lilac color of the orb. Around the room and outside, purple starts to shine at people’s wrists; everyone who is wearing a bracelet has received the evacuation order.

And that’s it - the mood suddenly shifts and adrenaline starts coursing in Kirsch’s ears, or at least he hopes that buzzing sound is adrenaline, and not fear, because he’s carrying enough of it in his chest already. El Capitán steps up to Zane and claps his forearm, bringing him closer. He does the same to Kirsch and his eyes look heavy with the weight of his words to them.

“Zane, Kirsch - you’ll notify students at the dorms. The Zetas are preparing for evacuation. Students should amass outside the Fraternity, we leave for the tunnel in a hour.”

Kirsch turns back at the doorway, because he wishes he could say goodbye to Danny and Laura, but the crowd is moving and Anell has bellowed for the Sisters to prepare for war, and everything is in motion and it’s dizzying so Kirsch stumbles down the steps and races to keep up with Zane. The campus road stretches out empty before them, echoing with their hard breathing. Their boots thud loudly and their cloaks billow out in snaps and their bracers clank metallically against the swing of their arms. Kirsch focuses on moving forward.

 

~~~~

 

Carmilla licks her lips free of the water dripping from them, turning off the basin sink faucet and watching as the last colors of AB negative circle the silver drain. Her sated smirk, grown there from the indulgence she just allowed herself within the hospital’s platelet storage room, now falls, upon realizing the presence that has nearly snuck up on her.

“Take another step and you’ll be losing that foot,” Carmilla calls over her shoulder, not yet sheathing her fangs.

“My, you sound just like her,” the Superintendent replies, and a shiver darts down her spine.

“Don’t risk losing your tongue too, Highlander.”

“Forgive me for not introducing myself to you in the Hebrides - your Mother casts an impressive shadow.”

Carmilla turns around with a noncommittal shrug, “For a long time it was where I liked to hide.”

“It is good to see you out in the light.”

Carmilla scoffs, “Are you just here for pleasant conversation, or do you have something for me?”

“I was hoping to find you here. I have a question.”

“Just one? It’s taking you quite awhile to ask it,” the sarcasm drips from her like the water did, like the blood. The Superintendent gently approaches.

“Will you go to the Pit and face the former Dean of Students?”

Carmilla balks for just a second, suspicious that this man might have telepathic powers. “I’ve got places to be, yea. What’s it to you?”

“This is the tipping point, and you have a choice to make.”

Carmilla laughs at that. “I don’t really have a lot of options.”

“It is important that you know it is a choice.” The Superintendent stresses, and it irritates Carmilla like a lecture.

“Then I’m choosing it,” she urges the conversation along.

“You will go to the Pit?”

“Look, Mystery Science Theater, I was on my way until this interruption.”

The Superintendent smiles at this, his stance falls back a step, and his shoulders relax. Conversely, Carmilla’s guard raises at the sight. “Then let us not delay ourselves any further,” he steps aside and starts to leave.

Carmilla blinks to catch up and fall to his stride, very intrigued but very wary of this man.

“There are some things you should know. The students are evacuating, under Zeta supervision. The Summer Society, however, is preparing for war with the demi-god.”

“Well that’s stupid.” Carmilla’s eyes suddenly crinkle with barely hidden worry, “Where is Laura?”

“Laura Hollis is at the Summer Society House. I find it doubtful she will leave with the evacuation order.”

“Of course.”

Unlikely company as they are, together Carmilla and the Superintendent steer a course through campus towards the Pit. He enlightens her to his plan to summon a champion against Lophiiformes. He is politely casual but very talkative, whereas Carmilla grows more taciturn the closer they approach.

“Furthermore… I do not mean to alarm you, Carmilla, but it may be that you don’t know - “

“Don’t know what?” Carmilla fishes immediately.

“A part of your soul has been possessed by your Mother.”

Carmilla blinks and steels her eyes forward. “Yeah, that.” She surmises with self-pity, “That shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it is.”

“Seeing you now, it flows from you like smoke. The power of her possession is so strong, I fearfully wonder how you manage to stay tethered to this realm at all.”

“I have a strong hold here,” she says, sick to her gut but perhaps brave because of it. “She’s been trying to control me since the day she found me. I’m ending it tonight.”

The Superintendent gives her another kind look. “I am a guardian of balance, but this chaotic evil must not be allowed to flourish. I wish to remind you of the risks involved.”

Carmilla’s pretty sure she knows exactly what’s gonna happen if she fails, but she listens anyway.

“You are aware of the Ancient Language; you already wield an impressive command over transmutation, but your Mother is substantially fluent as well. By returning to her, you give her opportunity to try and steal her power back from you, and claim yours as her own. You will not be able to return home if that happens.”

“I know.”

“But you have a strong heart, Carmilla. I can see it. You’ve made some good people your friends.”

“I didn’t do anything. It was Laura. It was all for Laura.”

“You have people to fight for, and that is enough.”

“Is it? Or are you just saying that?”

The Superintendent only smiles. Carmilla is silent as the spines of the destroyed Lustig building rise into view, backlit by gray and purple mountains of storm cloud.

“You still haven’t introduced yourself,” Carmilla states as they stop just before the edge of the Pit.

The Super shrugs his shoulders with a shake of his head, “It’s just John.” 

 

~~~~

 

Danny leads Laura upstairs to her room. The downstairs is still buzzing with the tension and anxious energy they left behind, but the walk down the carpeted hall is silent, save for the creaking of the hardwood beneath. There’s a weight so heavy on Danny’s shoulders that she imagines she might feel grateful for the floor to collapse beneath her, allowing her to sink under, swallowing her away from reality.

Laura follows Danny quickly inside Danny’s room, so much so that Danny slightly stumbles backwards. The silence seems to have unnerved her, and when Laura turns around from closing Danny’s door, she lifts her hands in a half-energized gesture of futility, shaking her head at the ground before blinking up to hold Danny’s gaze. She pouts, and Danny sees she’s got that same weight on her too, and Danny wants to help, but she’s still afraid of the fall that might come from her first shaky step.

“What if she’s gone?”

“She’s not. She wouldn’t abandon us.”

“Then why isn’t she here?”

“She will be,” Danny isn’t sure if it’s a wish or a lie.

She tries to be strong for Laura, but her tired feet still can’t bring her closer, and the secret she’s left unsaid stretches a canyon of empty space between them.

Laura drops her gaze and goes to the bed. 

“She thinks she’s gonna confront her mom, but what if she just flings herself into another dimension, and she never comes back?”

Danny has no answer for her, but the weight is getting to her too, so she sits at the far edge of the bed. She could roll right off it if she let gravity lead her.

“Tell me everything is gonna be ok,” Laura pleads, and falls back to the bed. Her hair fans out beneath her head. Danny falls closer to her, and Laura bunches her hands in Danny’s sweater.

“What if it’s not true?”

“It doesn’t matter, I just need to hear it; it’s in the comfort of the words.” Her voice is tiny over the cotton hills between them.

“What if I can’t give you that comfort?”

“You _can.”_ Laura scoots closer, tucking hair that falls in front of her eye with the movement behind her ear. “You can, Danny, because I trust you. I need to trust you. And you can trust me, too. We’ve got each other, as something to hold onto.”

Danny nods and licks her lips, preparing a sweet scenario in her head where everything works out. She mirrors Laura’s curled position on the bed, tucking her knees up, and they touch Laura’s. Her hand wraps around Laura’s wrists at her sweater. She’s got her, she holds on.

“We’ll go to the Pit with the Summers. We’ll make a stand, and when Carmilla shows up, we’ll save her. We won’t let her jump. The Super will help us defeat Lophiiformes.  We’ll close the Portal, and we’ll be all right.”

Danny lets go of one wrist to trace the curl of blonde hair behind her ear, and she leans in to plant a kiss to Laura’s forehead. Laura leans up with a hand at Danny’s jaw, and connects their lips. Danny’s lungs start to struggle to bring air in, but at the same time her confession singes just beneath her skin, needing to be let out.

And Danny _has_ to confess, it’s burning in her chest, just behind her rapidly beating heart. She pulls away and pushes herself up to lean over her legs and look at the ground between her feet.

“Laura, I - killed someone,” the words fall stunted from Danny’s lips, and then they sit there, heavy in the room between them, and Danny doesn’t dare look across the canyon’s expanse, afraid she’ll see something unkind in Laura’s eyes. So she elaborates, hoping more words will help instead of hinder.

“The four men that attacked us, they were angry. The whole village has a vendetta against Vampires, they fought to kill. It was an accident, sort of, but I - I cut his throat, and he died, so fast.” Danny’s hands come up in front of her, not really gesturing, but just kinda, held aloft like a shield, or an offering.

“I made a mistake, and I’m afraid of what… I’m afraid I’ve made things much worse.”

Laura is mercifully silent, and it lets Danny wallow in the thoughts she wouldn’t, couldn’t, let out of her head, and so they cascade out in hopeless waterfalls, emptying Danny as a hollow calabash.

“I can’t just keep pushing through, while others suffer, and die. I can’t lead anyone into more of that - I can’t lead the people I love into doom. It doesn’t matter if some of us want to fight - people are going to suffer, whether they choose it for themselves or not.”

Tears spill over her cheeks, so Danny stops talking so that she won’t choke. She feels Laura’s thumb wipe through a trail at the apple of her cheek, and it pulls, gently and firmly, Danny’s gaze back to Laura.

Her jaw is tight but her eyes are shining with something so pure and deep that Danny just might fall in. Laura’s cheeks twitch up in an almost smile that quickly loses it’s strength when she says softly, “It’s harder than I thought to come up with words of comfort.” Danny wishes her cheeks could mirror the lift that Laura’s reached, but they are incapable. Laura knows this too, so she forgoes levity and lets them both sink in somber glances and soft touches. “I don’t think there’s anything we could say to each other that will make this feeling go away. There’s no magic, or heroic savior.” She opens her arms and Danny leans into them when they wrap around Danny’s shoulders. “But we’ve got each other,” Laura repeats, and rests her head in the crook of Danny’s neck. Her nose is a warm spot against Danny’s pulse. “I’ve got you, and you’ve got me.”

They sit still save for their fingers rubbing gentle circles on whatever stretch of skin is nearest. There are still tears but they cling to the corners of their eyes, making eyelids heavy and reminding them both of the comfort of oblivious sleep. Neither feels strong or capable and both are desperate for love and understanding.

Danny kisses her. It’s planted and still, but it’s warm and Danny holds Laura’s shoulder firm. Laura traces Danny’s jaw with her fingertips. Danny lets gravity drop them both back to the bed, easy and soft, and Laura plays kisses across Danny’s lips, her jaw, her temple. The ministrations ease the edges of Danny’s reality, but her body clenches tight.

When Laura pulls back, she pulls a gasp, or a sob, from Danny. She sits up next to Danny, watches as Danny brings her hands up to head, squeezing her temples and closing her eyes. They pop open again when Laura’s weight leaves the bed.

“I’m going to lock your door.”

In the space she leaves, Danny’s doubts and fears return. When Laura comes back, she stands in front of Danny to find her unbalanced again. Danny has leaned up on her elbows but her hair remains mussed. Laura’s knees lean against the bed, hands come to move Danny’s hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her ears and lifting her chin with sweet swipes of her thumb. One knee slides up next to Danny’s hip to support Laura as she leans down over the taller woman.

“Everything thats happening…“ Danny seems to falter again under Laura’s gaze. 

“This is breaking me, “ Danny gasps, “And not being with you - “

“I’m right here, Danny,” Laura’s hands wrap like earmuffs around Danny’s head, and pull her just in front of Laura’s nose, “I wanna be right here.” Her eyes spear hooks into the back of Danny’s head, pulling her closer.

They both lean in, and connect with breath that is trapped between them. Danny finally pushes herself up with a hand, and she catches Laura’s body as she falls on top of her, Laura’s other knee sliding into place between Danny’s legs.

“I’m here, Danny,” Laura repeats, her voice cracking as her lips find Danny’s neck, and Danny is there with her in a heartbeat.

A war at the door and a war within her heart, Danny rolls her torso over Laura like tumbling fog. Laura’s lips open in soft gasps, and their lips slide past each other to bless lifted corners, and back again, inviting entrance to warmth, and security.

Danny still feels new to this, so tentative with Laura that she’s afraid she’ll do the wrong thing and push her away again. Laura takes her hands and encouragingly puts them under her shirt. Danny releases a sigh against Laura’s jaw, and lets herself find smooth lines and erratic patterns in Laura’s skin.

Feeling the strap catch on her wrist beneath Laura’s lower back, Danny huffs and pulls her chest and lips away, leaning on her elbow and Laura as she takes her watch off, struggling momentarily with the clasp. A moment of cold clarity comes in when Danny and Laura both see the faint puncture scars of Carmilla’s teeth, given on their first venture into Fövaran village. Danny stills in the cold, but Laura kisses the space at the neckline of Danny's t-shirt, and with the second plump pout of Laura's soft lips, Danny frees herself of the time and rockets her hands to Laura's lower back, launching with ground-shaking fervor along the pathway of her spine, stopping at the catch of thin bra strap just under wings. At the same time, Laura leans further into Danny, lead by spaceships and stardust and up, up, up. Danny rolls between Laura’s legs, lifting her from her lower back further to the middle of Danny’s bed. Laura pushes herself up from her elbows, and goes to fumble with the clasp of her jeans. There is a bright blush above her cheeks, and Danny can only imagine what secrets her own pale skin is revealing. She feels hot, everywhere, regardless. She hooks her fingers under both her sweater and shirt, and lifts them off her shoulders.

Laura wriggles to push her jeans down over her hips and it sends a shock through Danny. Her hands immediately go to assist, cascading over the swell of flesh and wishing only to linger. Danny sheds her pants without fuss, and floats over Laura as she lays down.

Danny is pulled to lay heavy over Laura, so close she can feel the pound of Laura’s heartbeat, strong enough to influence the beat in Danny’s own chest. Laura’s arms hug Danny closer to her, and Danny buries her face in Laura’s wheat hair. She is fresh with lavender.

"I really want this," Laura breathes against Danny's ear, and Danny feels blessed.

“I really want you,” Danny admits, and the blush that covers her ears cools as Laura’s little laugh washes over her. “Come here, then,” and this time Laura rolls over Danny, and the push sends Danny over some portal, it sends her floating, far away from her room, from the university, from the earth. She clings to Laura’s shoulder blade and hip.

Laura imagines growing a wing from just underneath Danny's palm. Laura’s pushing and lifting her hips between Danny’s legs, shifting and gyrating as Danny falls open beneath her. Danny gives so much of herself.

And Laura wants to give Danny something too, she kisses her, as long as she can, before she has to pull apart, and both their breaths come out hot against cheeks, and Danny, mercifully, slides her hand beneath Laura’s boyshorts, slides between her. Laura’s shuddering breath echoes the pulse of her hips against Danny’s hand, and while the underwear is constricting, Laura can’t stop to take them off. 

She shifts her hips, lets her toes grip for a new angle over Danny, and Danny’s now-free wrist obliges with a smooth dip, one long finger slipping within Laura and making some sort of connection. It is followed by a second digit on the next thrust, and Laura buzzes from the thumb satellite-ing the molten core of nerves at her clit.

Danny’s other hand holds Laura stable at her lower back, and her lips kiss over the teeth nips at her shoulder, and Laura is so grateful. Laura’s hand slides off Danny’s hip and seize the bedspread behind her, her edge coming closer and closer, and Laura lifts her hips and ducks her head to Danny’s chest, fitfull and free and guilty and loving, and she gasps for air as it is taken by her body, plunging fast and rising weightless by the curl of Danny’s fingers.

Danny’s other hand comes to bury itself at Laura’s neck, where the skin beneath her hair is hot and sticky with sweat. Laura takes and releases several deep breaths, punctuating them with kisses to Danny’s sternum.

“You ok?” Danny asks with a small croak, and it’s so predictable and familiar that Laura doesn’t have to open her eyes to kiss herself from Danny’s jaw back to her lips. “Very,” she murmurs into Danny’s mouth, and her hand moves fast between Danny’s legs, and she swallows the moan Danny lets out.

 

~~~~

 

The storm has arrived, engorged and reflected as gaseous plumes of purple from the fading but still-alchemically burning black-light orbs in the air. The remains of the Lustig frame the outside of the Pit, skeletal and steel in the cold winter wind. The area is abandoned, but on the wind Carmilla can just make out the impassioned timbre of a rally speech, coming from the Sisters’ territory to the west.

“You know what to do?” The Super asks her, and Carmilla answers him honestly.

“I’m guessing Mother has a plan for me. I’m just gonna knock.”

Carmilla clenches and releases her un-armed hands, pushing aside, not for the first time, the nagging doubt that spikes in her chest. She tilts her head to John, “What will you do?”

“I’ll start my summons.”

He offers her a humble smile. “I wish you luck, and clarity. With an eye looking down into the yawning abyss, one becomes dizzy.”

“Here’s hoping I’ve steadier feet than Kierkegaard,” Carmilla replies, stepping forward with more bravado than bravery, but she keeps walking, to the edge and down the sloping incline. Halfway down, she jumps over a crumbling hunk of earth and slides down on sturdy legs, a dirt trail lifting behind her. She doesn’t look back.

Lightning cracks loudly across the sky, trembling the earth, and the earth keeps trembling, and noise bubbles up from the empty abyss ahead of her. The noise crashes and booms over itself, rising louder and higher from the dark pit, and suddenly the top is breached, a lip, a bubble, a wave of water flows up and over the edge, spilling out in every direction, coming to wash Carmilla’s boots with muddy water.

 

~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last two chapters will be posted this weekend.


	17. Chapter 17: Transference

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> word count: 10,500

 

_ the morning i was born again, i was made into a beast _

_ am i free now? am i at peace? _

  * [Austra, “The Beast”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qLK4rGKwP3s)



 

~~Chapter 17: Transference~~

 

The storm has arrived, bloated and full, over Silas. It crushes the winter air under the burden of dark heavy clouds. The chill seeps into Carmilla’s bones, fighting with the strange sensation already within her, that of a burning smolder in her marrow, and flashes of Mother’s triumphant smile, her blood-stained teeth, a taunting laugh. She calls without words to Carmilla. The closer she walks to the abyss,and the deeper her ankles and knees wade into the upwelling spring, the less Carmilla feels in control.

“I’m here, you bitch,” Carmilla announces, used up and angry. The winds and the water are too loud in her ears, but Mother will have heard her anyway. At the center of the upwelling spring, a vortex suddenly starts whirling, sucking a hole down to unknown darkness. The dark waters shimmer with the purplish reflection of the atmosphere, and Carmilla takes one last deep breath, sniffing through her nose the scents of this plane, unsure if she’ll have the luxury again. She smells fire, she smells the crackle of ozone as electricity flashes in the clouds, she smells the fullness of earth and the salt of open ocean. The klaxons call out across the campus, announcing the emergency and setting the mood for Carmilla to walk further to her possible doom.

 The vortex spins madly on, and Carmilla sinks beneath the waves, 

swimming down, down, down, 

until it’s just darkness, nothing but her conscious mind and the wetness surrounding her. 

Stretching eons of time with her hands and pulling herself deeper into the void, Carmilla screams, angry and heartbroken and afraid, and she kicks her legs with ferocity, until the last of the scented air in her lungs is gone, and is replaced by water. Water replaces everything else, too, and in the darkness Carmilla floats, mind empty but for the swish of water, blissfully full of nothingness. 

 The moment passes, the darkness ebbs to gray, then lighter and lighter, and when Carmilla finally opens her eyes, unaware she had them closed, she floats in a cloud-white void.

 “Finally, darling. It’s been _eons,_ hasn’t it? _”_ Mother says, shimmering in her powersuit and standing gracefully atop nothing.

In this dreamscape Carmilla doesn’t want to give agency to woman in front of her, so she keeps silent and tries to discern her surroundings. A smirk grows on Mother’s face as she watches Carmilla fail to understand _where…?_

“Welcome to the Astral Plane, Carmilla,” the Dean supplies helpfully. “It’s quite monotonous, so we’re pleased you could join us.”

Seemingly swimming in a flutter of spiny translucent fins and wobbling weight with every tail-swish, an anglerfish comes out ambling behind Mother. It is not much bigger than a beach ball. Its eyes are lopsided and its gaping maw tries to clench shut around nothingness incessantly.

“That’s Lophiiformes?” Carmilla’s got severe judgement weighing down just one eyebrow, while the other lifts with unabashed incredulity. “That thing…?”

The Dean snaps her fingers and the fish alters its floating trajectory immediately, turning back, but not swimming directly to her. “He’s not exactly tamed yet, but I’ve convinced him to conserve his energy by taking up less space. He’s starving, you see. So am I, for that matter.”

“Good. It’s an awful feeling.”

“Indeed. But now that you’re finally here, I can get down to the business of devouring your soul.”

Carmilla widens her stance and taunts, “Let’s see you take it then.”

“Patience, my girl. You’ve yet to learn anything, but isn’t that why you’ve come? All those questions you must have: I’m about to explain everything to you.”

“I just came for the fight, Mother, I’m in no mood for your pretty bullshit.”

Her face darkens, “I’ve waited an excruciatingly long time for you to come back, so you damn well _will_ listen to what I have to say. But afterwards, I’ll make it quick. Your death, I mean.”

“I’m gonna rip out your throat and feed it back to you.”

Maman closes her eyes and smiles wryly. No more games.

“You left here with a part of me, Carmilla, and it has been impossible for me to leave because of it. My aim was to have you persuaded to come back to me _much_ sooner, but it seems my possession was not strong enough. Regardless, I’ve kept this glutton company since then. He’s not very bright, but he’s my ride out of here, so I’ve had to bide my time. I’ll need him to be as powerful as possible before I take his _mana_. You know this word, don’t you, my jewel? It’s our collective knowledge, experienced through one but shared by many who live long enough to know of it. Now, once we’re done here, I’ll be taking Lophiiformes out for lunch, so to speak. I’m hopeful those fool friends have amassed another army at our gates.”

Carmilla’s battle stance has become somewhat slacked. She holds her tongue in the space Mother has given her, so Mother clicks hers in irritation.

“Isn’t there a question you haven’t asked yet?”

“How did I survive?” Carmilla steps forward, her anger not forgotten, but pushed just aside.

“Well, not by my hand, I assure you. No, I knew you were lost the moment you jumped in - as I was convincing Lophiiformes to abstain from swallowing us all, I couldn’t have seen what was happening. When I saw her reach out to you, however, I reacted quickly to attach what I could to you, before that snow-haired ghost girl of yours carried you away. I couldn’t tell you how it was done. Escape from here is impossible without a line cast out for you.”

Carmilla is quiet for a beat, but has to ask. “Ell?”

“She’s not here anymore. She vanished with you, passed on, maybe. Perhaps she sacrificed her very consciousness to transport you back. Impossible to know really; everything is hypothetical here.”

Carmilla fails to hide the surprise, relief, and sadness that fills her to know that Ell somehow saved her. She’s given her a redemption Carmilla thought would never come.

“I’ve had a lot of time for thinking, Carmilla,” the Dean interrupts her moment of closure. Narrowing her eyes and closing her fists, Carmilla wishes she had something sharp and deadly powerful in her grasp.

“I’ve grown weary of Styria. This obligation of guardian-keeper has kept me bound to Silas for too long. I’m ready for the bigger picture, for the power that comes with eternity, and I’ll start by snipping free all these loose ends.”

Carmilla still remains silent, because there are too many memories and too much to say and Carmilla is ready, is anxious, to stitch closed the hole that Mother carved in her. She chooses instead to her crack her neck, leaning first right, then left. Mother grimaces at the edge of her mouth.

“It’s all the more unfortunate then, that you have made allies that care a great deal for you now, because you will not be returning to them. You will disappear. I will take back not only my power but yours as well, and I will be quite refreshed for the hunt when I return to Silas.”

“I’ve no more patience for your vitriol, Mother,” Carmilla finally speaks. “Let’s finish this.”

“Impatient to see the fires of your end, my tarnished diamond?”

“Impatient to rid myself of you for the rest of my eternity.”

The Dean _tsks_ and unfoldsher arms. 

“Wrong. I am your reaper, Carmilla. I am the end of your eternity.”

 

~~~~

 

The klaxons fire through the night, incessant and urgent and terrifying. Perry and LaFontaine lead the way to the dormitories, followed by a handful of Zetas ready for immediate evacuation.

While still rowdy and incoherent on the best of days, Perry finds herself impressed with the level of cohesion with which the Zetas are marching. They stomp the ground behind Perry and LaF, headed in the direction of the sparse lit windows and scared residents peeking out. They meet Kirsch and Zane at the ground level entrance, where they relay that some students are reluctant to leave their rooms. Perry nods resolutely and marches past, LaFontaine close behind.

The Zetas assemble outside the front double doors, while Perry bursts through, intent to go up to eachfloor to gather the students too frightened to heed the glowing bracelet’s warning.

Lafontaine gasps as they ascend the first stair case, “What about J.P.!?”

Perry has no answer other than ‘Go get him at the library,’ but she’s not about to suggest that plan. There’s no time.

“We have to go get him at the library!”

_Dammit._

“There’s no time for a detour, hun. We’ve got to lead the res’s to the frat house for evacuation.” Perry pushes open the stairwell door upon the flashing hallway of the second floor.“And he made his call, he wants to protect us from within - he can’t do that if we remove him from the system.”

LaFontaine falls silent behind Perry’s lead, bounding down the hall and knocking politely on every room number she recalls seeing lit up as they approached the dormitories.

It hurts to leave him behind, Perry can’t deny that. But there is a stronger fear, a stronger drive behind Perry’s fast movements, and she’s just wishing to make it as far as she can with LaFontaine safe by her side.

Together they run down the halls and climb the east and west stairwells, pushing past frantic students clutching duffel bags and laden with extra coats.

They stop at their dorm, moving quickly to grab their emergency kits they had packed together Sunday, after Perry’s stress baking failed to comfort her following the library incident. Perry takes one last look around, while LaFontaine hurriedly stuffs the last of Perry’s brownies in with the _speculoos_ sugar cookies from the Summer House already in their backpack. With a silent nod to each other, they vacate as blustery as they entered.

From one of the empty rooms, a loud digitized voice calls out, mispronouncing LaFontaine’s name. With creased eyebrows and a suspicious glare, LaFontaine leans back into the room, finding a desktop computer lit up and running lines of code incessantly. From the speakers connected to the monitor, the computer voice calls again. 

_LaFontaine, please wait. I must bid you farewell before you depart._

“J.P.?” and LaF rushes back into the room, knocking a chair out of the way and leaning desperately towards the monitor.

“Tell me how to bring you with us, Jeeps, tell me what to do!”

Perry’s heart hammers in her chest, they have no time, there’s too much at stake - her best friend’s heart is breaking. It’s too much.

_“_ I’ll go to the Library, you can open the doors now, and hold the traps - I can get you - “

_No, friend._

“This place is about to be a warzone, it’s not safe - “

_I cannot leave Silas. As part of the whole, I cannot exist alone._

“You’ll be with me, ” LaFontaine says, but the words sound too desperate.

Perry puts a delicate hand on LaFontaine’s shoulder, “I’m going upstairs to finish the evacuation. I’ll come back for you when we need to leave.”

Lafontaine turns and nods, gripping hard to Perry’s hand. “Go.”

Perry leaves through the open door, and LaFontaine begs at the glowing screen.

“You’ve found us a miracle before, Jeeps, let’s find another. Give me access to the mainframe from here, I can- “

_You must leave. You are needed elsewhere._

“I can help!”

_We are both aware that my search algorithms operate in the range of a googolplex faster than your own. Sorry, not sorry._

LaFontaine barks a laugh that doesn’t quite cover the sob. “A googolplex and a half, isn’t it?”

_Yes, of course._

LaFontaine’s mouth is too busy trying to decide between a sad frown or a nostalgic smile, so a beat passes, and the monitor flashes to a blank canvas, on which digital letters spell out: 

Friend: n. A person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection

It flashes again:

Curious: adj. inquisitive, eager to know, agog.

Alternative; Curious: adj. strange, odd, peculiar, funny -

\- unexpected, unconventional, extraordinary

And lastly, capitalized in block letters, taking up almost the whole screen:

LAFONTAINE

(undefinable)

 

_Your friendship is a treasure I will always keep safe in my memory banks._ J.P.’s computerized voice startles LaFontaine’s smile into place. Their eyes are wet. This is as good a goodbye as the situation will allow.

“I couldn’t have been happier to have nearly died in the Library the night we met.” LaFontaine’s smile falters again.

_“_ I don’t want to lose you. We get each other, Jeeps. Other people can be so… unconscious.”

The monitor beeps and returns to the scrolling numbered code. 

_People can be passionate. We share a passion for knowledge, and compassion for our friends. This is why I will stay where I am, and you will go. I do not regret a single millisecond spent with you, LaFontaine. Until the very end, I will write our story so that the truth of what happened here may live for posterity._

_“_ LaFontaine, sweetie - “ Perry announces gently, after running down the hall loudly.

“Right,” LaFontaine nods. “Hey, Jeeps, if you could leave out the part where I cried a little…”

_I will do no such censoring of your humanity, my dearest friend._

“OK then, fine.” A small, sad smile.“Take care of yourself, J.P.”

_I will do my best. Please do the same. You as well miss Perry._

“Of course, J.P., thank you…Goodbye.” Perry leads LaFontaine towards the door with a hand on their shoulder. LaFontaine turns back one last time.

“Can you do us a favor and please, _please_ shut off those goddamn sirens?”

_I am happy to help._

The whirring of the klaxon is cut short, and its call droops out over the campus in a pitiful putter. A blessed silence falls, in which Perry squeezes LaFontaine’s hand.

“Later, Jeeps.”

The monitor stalls on a last word: FAREWELL.

Downstairs, the Zetas have organized the students into packs, and when Kirsch sees Perry and LaFontaine running down the steps through the glass doors, he whistles for everyone’s attention and orders the start of the parade. The Zetas at the back turn and begin the march away, but some of the students waver on their feet. Perry and LaFontaine arrive, breathless.

“That’s everyone, we need to go,” Perry nods quickly. A sophomore from the 2nd floor leans out to her, clutching the comforter of his dorm bed around his shoulders. “The sirens stopped. Doesn’t that mean it’s over?”

LaFontaine puffs up their chest and hikes their rucksack higher. “This is just the calm before the storm. We can thank J.P. Armitage for the mercy of being able to hear ourselves think again, but its still not safe here. So move it.”

The cumulus storm clouds lay in heavy heaps, perhaps to almost crush the ground. Silas exists in that wary in-between, quite aware of the infinite end just beyond either border.

 

~~~~

 

“This is heavy,” Laura complains breathlessly. “Running with a lance is difficult.”

“That’s why lancers are usually on horseback. You don’t want me to carry it?”

“No!” Laura stumbles but wobbly corrects herself, leaning more to the left to start cutting across the snow bank toward the Pit. “I won’t get stronger if I don’t do it myself.” She clambers somewhat ungracefully up the incline, holding the lance across her body with two hands.

“Sure, yea, I hear you…” Danny strides up the tall hill with a bit more skill (and longer legs) and reaches the top first. She bends low to reach a hand back for Laura to grab, “but maybe a smaller weapon, or a shield would have been better. We had options.”

“You had options,” Laura says as she latches on.“I need the spear. I like a long reach.” She says the last bit as a huff of air near Danny’s face, her hand gripping tightly in Danny’s. Danny blushes and raises her eyes, while Laura’s widen, and then narrow, and Danny lets slip a smile.

“Inappropriate,” Laura coughs and starts to move, to which Danny replies through a small lift in her lips, “I didn’t say anything.” She lets Laura stomp away from her, but keeps hold of her hand as she passes. She takes a step forward when she last loses touch with Laura’s fingertips.

There are snow flurries bustling about the road ahead, swept up by the wind that bays louder with every step closer to the Pit. By some grace, the sirens that had pulled Laura and Danny away from the easy comfort and soft security of Danny’s bed have now been silenced. 

Battling now with the sounds of wind and the warrior yells of Danny’s nearby Sisters, is the hard thumping of their hearts in their chests.

 

~~~~

 

Perry and Kirsch bustle their way to the front of the group, past students clutching just one small bag, and some Zetas laden with camping gear and extra tents. There’s not a lot of talking. The upper campus streets echo with the clanging and thudding of a mass of people, except for when a particularly strong gust blows through. That sound swallows everything.

Zane falls into step behind LaFontaine at the tail end of the group. He’s quiet for a few moments, then speaks with a gentle tone, “I’m sorry to hear about J.P. He was the bro-est of bros.”

As they march behind the cavalcade, LaFontaine worries that Zane might say something ignorant and that they’ll be the only one that hears it.

“The bro-est?”

“Yea dude. We hung out a little. He was helping me with my memories a little bit. He has them all, you know… all the ones that the jar took.”

“Oh… I didn’t know.” LaFontaine softens the clay that is a molded wall around the harsh fact that they left J.P. behind. Zane continues with an amiable look on his face.

“I couldn’t sleep, and he doesn’t, so we got to talking. It helped, I think.”

“Do you have them back? Your memories?”

“Well, no. I don’t remember them. But it felt nice to hear, and see, some good ones.And in high quality, too.“

LaFontaine is quiet, cycling through some of their own memories. Zane clears his throat and sticks out his hand to LaFontaine. “I haven’t said it, but I think you’re pretty cool, and I’m proud to call you a friend. As a Zeta, I’m proud to defend you.”

LaFontaine’s eyes narrow minutely at that, so Zane continues sharply, “In a way that absolutely doesn’t diminish or disregard your abilities or autonomy! I’m proud to support you, is what I’m saying. Sorry, I’m just - trying to be more honest with people, end of the world and everything,” he rambles.

LaFontaine’s jaw relaxes, and their eyes move in a half circle shrug.

“Where’d you learn the word, ‘autonomy’?”

“Oh, it’s all Danny. We’re learning feminist theory through osmosis, me n’ Kirsch, seems like.”

“Sounds probable.”

“So uhm, actually,” Zane seems nervous again. “If I ever say anything about you that, like, isn’t cool? Please tell me. Because I don’t know if I get it - the ‘it’ of your…. you.”

LaFontaine feels both very vulnerable and somewhat powerful. Never expected a Zeta to ask about their self identity. It provides a distraction from the nagging at the back of their head, and the feelings there.

They smile at Zane. “I can make it simple, because it’s complex in a lot of ways. Gender-wise,I’m non-binary, so instead of ‘he’ or ‘she’, I prefer ‘they’. If you slip up, it’s ok, as long as you try. If you try, we won’t have a problem.”

“I know I’m still just kinda on the periphery of things, but I think your whole gang is pretty rad. And to be honest, I think it’d be cool to have a vampire friend.”

“She’s more than just a vampire, Zane,” LaFontaine remarks, keeping their eyes on the students marching ahead of them, watching a blanket corner peeking from a student’s bag swish and sway with each step. “She’s like, human to a fault, actually. She makes mistakes like the rest of us… but she dives head first into her feelings.”

LaFontaine’s face sobers upon a mild realization. “Which, I mean, some people would call that reckless. Dangerously so… but,” LaFontaine pauses. “I guess that takes a lot of will and courage… passion, and hope.”

The borders of the campus are growing thicker with trees, and LaFontaine trails off into their own forest of thoughts. Zane goes quiet, perhaps trailing off too. There is a space left vacant by the end of the conversation, and it suddenly fills back up with the crushing reality around them and the absence of their friends.

“They’re gonna be fine,” LaFontaine nods seriously, when the oppression of the unknown becomes too much. “They… everyone can make it out of this.”

Hope floats for LaFontaine like a fragile, tiny dirigible on the buffeting winds above the treeline. 

The head of the group makes it to the forest edge, and Perry and Kirsch fall back to them. Kirsch gives Zane a Zeta gesture of hitting his chest with his fist.

“We’re marching North to the tunnels. When everyone is clear, we’re leaving two watch guards here at entrance, keeping an eye on the campus.”

“I’ll stay,” Zane and LaFontaine both say, but Kirsch shakes his head and steps forward.He puts a hand on LaF’s shoulder.

“Perry and I already talked about it. Mama P’s gonna lead the students to safety with El Capitán. But she’ll need your help to keep them under control. Zane and I will - ”

“I’ve got no authority over them - “ LaFontaine argues, but Perry moves closer, ducking her head and lowering her voice, “You promisedme. You promised that you’d stay with me.”

And LaFontaine cannot argue that, and they think briefly about sacrifice and hope and feelings and promises. Looking into Perry’s eyes, LaFontaine thinks they see all these things perhaps reflected in her warm brown irises, dimmed by darkness but still shiny with something powerful. LaFontaine agrees, because they work better when Perry is near, and LaFontaine wants to stay near to her.

Kirsch stands aside to place LaF shoulder to shoulder with Perry, “They need you guys right now. They’ll need someone they trust to guide them” He moves next to Zane, “We’ll stay behind and wait for our friends.”

“We’ll keep going,” Perry nods, and LaFontaine mirrors. “We’ll give them hope.”

It floats as a tiny dirigible, a light flickering and trembling under dark skies.

 

~~~~

 

The struggle drags on for what feels like an eternity. Carmilla is drawing on her very last reserves, and then some, because the thought of Laura dying, Danny dead, the home that was her prison, and her only sanctuary, on fire - the terrible thoughts keep repeating in Carmilla’s head, making her angry and giving weight to her attack when she feels weightless in this void.

Within the void there is less physicality - Maman’s power is demonstrated with her shifting into a shadowed murder of crows, screeching and flying and chasing, and retreating from the forceful swats of Carmilla’s panther claws, and the gnashing and chomping of her jaguar incisors. She roars, a deep sound emanating from a caged animal that knows freedom is just out of reach.

In the void they trade minds, memories. The blows are superficial, but the pecks and clawing scratches that Carmilla feels in the stretching expanse of her mind tells her that the Dean is winning, and reminds her that Carmilla was exhausted before she even stepped foot into the dark spring.

She could lose everything.

Carmilla’s consciousness fills with the semi-reality of the Dean at her side, her hand suddenly clutching Carmilla’s throat, so deeply that her nails bring forth 5 distinct trails of blood, the color of which is an unnaturally bright red. At the back of her head, Mother’s hand cradles her like a child. Her breath is at Carmilla’s ear.

“You disappoint me, Carmilla. I take no pleasure in your death.”

The scene changes, and Carmilla is now on the ground, the Dean’s foot, sheathed forever in her functional high heels, slowly crushing Carmilla’s windpipe. Unable to speak, the Dean begins what must be her last words to Carmilla.

“You have been many names, Mircalla, but we both know that this is who you truly are - a passionate fool too lost in the fervor of humanity to seek what power could truly be yours.”

A moment passes in which the Dean gazes down at Carmilla with something like pity, like sadness, like regret. It burns and blisters Carmilla’s skin like the sun.

“I gave you a chance for greatness. I gave you a gift.”

Dramatic and thoughtful, the Dean lifts her foot from Carmilla’s throat, then places the edge of her heel to the space above Carmilla’s left breast. “My last gift, Carmilla: oblivion from the flow of Lethean rivers.”

It enters her chest just as a blade might, and pierces Carmilla’s heart.

Whether it actually does or not, is hypothetical and real at the same time.

Regardless.

Carmilla is down and out, stuck neither here nor there in this portal between existences, and she has the strange sensation of slowly losing her mind. Its the edges that blur first, and while the Dean has disappeared from Carmilla’s view, she is instead much, much closer, and her voice occasionally permeates the fog. Flashes of memories and chiding remarks and the _tsk_ of judgement, they orchestrate the soundtrack to Carmilla’s fall. She watches as her hands bubble, the same dark orbs that obliterated the Blade of Hastur from her grasp the last time she was here with Mother. Her fight is literally peeling and falling off from her, her mind and thoughts bleeding into nothingness in this void.

She’s back on the ground, the Dean leaning into her heel above her.

But there is no pain, not really. Not actually. And then, Carmilla’s blurred edges shiver, and stall in their encroachment. 

The blade won’t penetrate to the core.

The Dean pushes harder, but Carmilla’s heart does not give. 

And then, it beats.

The muscle contracts around the weaponized heel, it contracts to protect a memory, a dream, a vision…

_“Hell, even you deserve better,” Laura tells her._

It beats again, sturdy around a memory that Carmilla wasn’t even conscious for.

_Carmilla’s limp body is cradled in Danny’s arms from her grave in the Pit._

Carmilla knows the Dean is trying to devour her mind, reaching even deeper perhaps in search of her soul. Which Carmilla knows, with just as much certainty, does exist, it’s hidden in her chest, next to the cavity that houses her undead heart. Within that small space, lives Laura’s bittersweet-flavored smile, Danny’s scarlet-copper hair. There is a space within Carmilla that houses precious things, and they give Carmilla strength, now, and somehow, the Dean can’t touch it. 

And suddenly all the light within the void is stolen, in a flash and a blink, and there is darkness. Another flash and the light returns. But the Dean is no longer eating away at Carmilla’s edges, no longer above her with a heel inches deep in her chest.

Carmilla confronts her foe full-on, to find an unusual look of confusion and pain across her features.

_What have you done?_

Carmilla has no answer, and just thinks back to that small space in her chest, a real soul, where she found the laughter of a sleepy Laura in the morning to be a sound to rival the church bells of St-Etienne-le-Vieux, before it was abandoned. She finds there other sources of warmth, and color, like the passion of Danny’s ire, the tides of emotion in the ocean of her blue eyes. Even the various types of smiles she’s received from Laura’s friends. Carmilla has done nothing but let these people come closer, and now, she finds a desire to protect them. A desire both selfish and selfless, somehow existing in two planes at once.

The light is stolen again, a wave of darkness shakes the void, and the Dean actually stumbles back, despite there being no obstruction anywhere.

Carmilla feels something like compassion, and it makes her heart beat loud in her chest, she hears it in her ears, and the shockwave pushes the Dean back several paces.

Carmilla steps forward, and her mind speaks the name of her feline transformation. Radiating out from her spine, head to tail, Carmilla’s panther sinks low to rut into an invisible ground, before launching at the Dean. Her jaw latches on, and Carmilla can see the Dean’s thoughts, her many memories. Her consciousness on display, Carmilla exists as both of them, floating helpless in this void, but Carmilla holds the simple knowledge that she will not disappear. The Dean, on the other hand…

There’s the blackness again, bubbling up and eating away at the Dean’s edges. It slowly devours her, trapped as she is beneath Carmilla’s heavy jaw and claws. The Dean tries to escape, to dissolve into her cloud of crows, but Carmilla holds fast, and kicks with her powerful hind legs into the Dean’s torso, claws ripping into flesh that either bleeds or just sloughs off under the dissolving bubbles of darkness. Carmilla’s body pulses with power, her mind opens, and there is so much that she _knows_ now, it’s close to unbearable. The Dean’s thoughts flash jarringly on the ancient word for flight, and Carmilla thinks of the crows,and her back shudders under an intense pressure, a searing pain. She does not see it, but she knows it is happening.

Bony wings crack, and erupt from Carmilla’s shoulder blades. The black crows’ feathers are iridescent with blood that is both there and not, she is both gruesome and holy in this moment, and there is a final scream in Carmilla’s head, Mother’s scream, the last reaching grab at Carmilla’s soul. 

Her new wings flap once, powerfully, and they pull apart the last vestiges of the Dean’s body between Carmilla’s jaws. It does not take long. Carmilla has little time to wonder in the aftermath.

The instant the Dean’s last hold upon existence is released, the portal rages open. Water rushes in, quickly filling the void. Lophiiformes, Carmilla is aware, is not far off, growing rapidly in size, flapping its translucent stubby fins and wiggling its angler-light in anticipation. Floating in the mad current of the water vortex, Carmilla reverts back to a human shape, but the new additions from her shoulder blades stay confusingly and achingly outstretched. Naked now, she screams out as her mind tries to control her wings. Her eyes are shut and her mind is closed, trying to contain all the new knowledge and power within, stolen and absorbed from her Mother.

There is a dark and dead part of Carmilla, that space Mother occupied greedily, and even though the Dean is dead, the space remains.

 

~~~~

 

“Holy - “ “ - Shit!” 

Kirsch and Zane both push off the tree they were leaning against to stand with a surge of adrenaline and no where to run.

The sky above Silas University, a swirling black mass illuminated bright purple, now has a scar running through it. A pocket that separates sky and probably ground, but they can’t see the Pit from here, and within the pocket, Kirsch thinks he can see space.

“That’s the thing, right? The portal,” Zane ventures but Kirsch fears what that means. Zane voices it for him, “There’s monsters in there.”

“Yea man.”

“We have to tell the others.”

Kirsch is thinking about something else, so his voice is more impatient than he intends, “Nah dude, they’ve been gone for like ten minutes, they’re not at the tunnel yet. Everyone can see that thing.”

Zane looks put off. “I just meant we should report - “

“I gotta go back. I gotta help ‘em, man,” Kirsch says with narrow-eyed conviction.

Zane shakes his head and his blonde hair flips in front of his face. He hastily runs a hand through it. “Dude, what. We’re supposed to protect the students!”

“We should have stayed at the Pit to fight!”

“We’re not soldiers, man!”

Kirsch hesitates, “I - I know! I know.”

Zane lifts his eyebrows but waits for Kirsch to continue. 

“Look, ok, whatever’s coming outta there, like right now, is facing our last defense. Dragoon was supposed to be an Alliance, but we broke up at the very last minute. And I mean, I know,we couldn’t force people to stay but… I can’t just sit by. It’s not like when SJ… when she died, I didn’t know what was going on.But I can’t just stay here and watch that portal spit out evil that’s attacking my friends.”

Zane nods, but his face is still set in a frown. “I get it man, I do. But what about our friends at the tunnel? What happens if the passage is still trapped?”

“The danger is at the Pit, and if it breaks through the Summers, it’ll come for us all anyway, man.”

Zane looks around the forest for another reason. “You leave your post, the frat could kick you out.”

“What’s the point of a frat if the university is a big black hole?”

Zane is quiet. Kirsch hikes his pack over his shoulder and swoops his green cloak behind him. He waits. Zane clears his throat and scratches the back of his head.

“Look, man, here’s the deal. I know I showed up late in the game, but this is some scary shit right here, and it would tear me up to lose you.”

Kirsch blinks because he’s not sure what to say to that. 

“It’s the end of the world, and I’m just being honest.” Zane sags. “You’re important to me, bro. We’ve been through some stuff together.”

Kirsch keeps his jaw tight around his emotions, because there’s too much adrenaline and testosterone to let it come out of him without a punch somewhere, but a smile still sneaks past his lips.

“Then come with me, bro.”

Zane shakes his head, “I don’t know if I’m that brave. Like when it comes down to it…”

“What if it’s not about individual bravery?” Kirsch steps closer. “There’s strength in numbers, right? And we’ll lean on each other when times gets tough, like our Brothers have always done. Like you did for me after SJ; like we did after the Library. “

Zane holds Kirsch’s stare for a long moment. Kirsch nods, “I don’t know what’s waiting for us at the Pit, but it’s gotta be better than standing here with our worries.”

Breaking eye contact, Zane brings up the radio.

“This is Fish-Tail, over.”

“You guys see that thing, right?” comes El Capitán’s static-y reply.

“Yea boss. How’re you fairing?”

“Double-timing it to the tunnel. We should be there soon. You gonna catch up?”

“Negative, Fish-Eye. We’re going to the Pit, to help our friends.”

A static-y silence.

“Go. We’ll take of things here.”

“You’re sure, Erik?” Zane asks, Kirsch nodding and holding his gaze again.

“We don’t need a watch for the campus anymore, we all know the portal’s open. You might still do some good at the pit, however. But you gotta get everyone else the hell out of there if things go south. Drag the Sisters by their crossbows if you have to.”

With their President’s blessing, Kirsch and Zane nod quickly, and begin to move.

 

~~~~

 

The storm rages at the Pit, clouds and waves ferociously spiraling in separate directions, connected at the center by the portal, an oval that stretches for leagues below and miles high, punctuating the vortex of sea and sky.

Dark shadows are ascending from the waves below, the white capped seas shuddering with the upheaval. The Summer Society, the only remaining limb of Dragoon’s pipe dream alliance, stands shakily at the edge of the pond, weapons raised and warrior yells hurled out sporadically.

The Super is mildly aware of the tumult at the door of his consciousness, but in his seated, meditative state, he is able to focus on his call. The wind whips at his cloak and threatens to steal his glasses from his eyes, while the hematite dagger glistens to fight the dust on the ground.

He calls to Phalacroe, the bird that has existed for so long as to have amassed the qualities of demi-god, perhaps enough to best the power of Lophiiformes. The opponent, Lophiiformes, has enjoyed centuries of hand-fed luxury, and is right now a couple months starved of its ritual meal. The affair would probably take an infinitesimal amount of time for Phalacroe to wrap up. At least, that’s what the Superintendent says to it.

_Time is a non-issue for both of us, Seer._

That’s part of my point, the Super nods. Would it make hardly a difference to lend us aid? And to quite probably gain a boon of new knowledge and power, wouldn’t you consider it?

_There is no guarantee of victory. Battles are often more trouble than the are worth._

The Superintendent’s face remains in neutral amiability. There is something to be valued in humans, he assures.

_I don’t believe you._

I can give you examples, if you like, he replies. It’s not often, but there are sometimes humans born who have an enormous potential hidden within them, a star of hope that can lead to great things.There are sparks of genius that shine through the dense night, I can attest to that. There may well be some of those stars here at Silas, which has always attracted various kinds of powerful creatures. Why not watch to see how they unfold? Or would you rather see, yet again, the unchanging whirlwind of chaos and the predictable aftermath of destruction?

_Hmm._

The Superintendent smiles in that moment, because the vocalization is Phalacroe mirroring a human motif, perhaps just for the Super’s benefit, but they both know a deal has been struck.

_There are terms to discuss, if I do this for you._

You’re a pleasant conversationalist. I await our next talk, _after_ the battle.

_I will find you then._

And with that, the wind howls in the Super’s ears, his eyes blink open, and the dagger floats before him, suspended by a force within that is twisting and pushing gravity away. A dark and smoky-electric vortex flares from within the blade,growing in size to envelope the dagger and the space surrounding it. The cormorant bird appears from this portal, stretching out its wings of green-blue-metallic. It shakes and fluffs the feathers up. The dagger shudders back into its shape, and drops to the ground. The Super wraps it within his cloak.

The Super stands, one hand holding his glasses to his head, the other pointing across the watery Pit. “It’s just there!”

The first monsters have emerged already from the shore, and arrows alight with flame soar through the sky, sinking into bodies and reflecting shooting stars over the water. The cormorant demi-god flies high, almost to the clouds, and hovers there. From across the canyon of the Pit, the Super spies two figures just arriving: one quite tall, the other moderately short.

 

Danny grabs Laura’s hand as they stop at the edge, glances shifting between the Sisters battling below and the _huge_ bird that just flew up into the clouds.

“Oh good, just in time,” Laura laughs nervously, and Danny swallows a hard lump. The wind stings her eyes, and she might be imagining it, but the spinning vortex of doom that’s splitting this plane of existence right down the middle seems to be screaming in Danny’s ears. She tightens her grip, and Laura does the same.

The bird swoops low once, before flying back up into the clouds - a second later, it’s falling back down, or diving, and it flattens its wings against it’s body just before it hits the water, a bullet sent straight down. The waves it kicks up are massive, and they overflow the shore, sweeping a line of inter-dimensional trespassers back to the seas.

It rockets back out of the water a minute later, nothing in its grasp. It returns to its circular patterns near the maelstrom clouds.

“This is so surreal, I can’t believe this is happening. How is this happening right now?” Laura asks, as something of a distraction while Danny begins her descent.Danny doesn’t say anything, because she can already see what some of her Sisters are facing.

Some of them are _fast._

 

~~~~

 

“You leave, or ve fight.”

LaFontaine huffs heavily. These angry Germanic men are particularly as dense and inflexible as the pile of rocks they stand in front of, blocking the passage to the tunnel. Puffs of air from the multitude of hiking-warm lungs behind LaFontaine cover the area in a fleeting mist.

“We have no choice, here, buddy. We’re running for our lives. We need sanctuary ‘til this all blows over.”

“No sanctuary for Silas.”

“Look, all right, we’ve all got bigger problems out there!You need to warn your people too, Fövaran might not be far enough from the fallout.”

“Silas takes lives, Silas vill not be allowed to pass.”

Perry puts a hand up to stall LaFontaine’s next angry word,“Let’s try something else.” She turns cordially back to the gang of men, who deliberately heft their clubs and swords in their hands. “Please allow us a moment to regroup, gentlemen.”

“Leave!”

“Yes, of course, we heard you. One moment,” Perry placates, and she ushers LaFontaine andEl Capitán back to the edge of the clearing, past where the students and other Zetas are shivering between the trees.

“They won’t let us through.” LaFontaine states the obvious.

“We could make them,” El Capitán suggests casually, but the glare Perry gives him shuts that down quick. “No, we’re trying to get to _safety,_ and a fight is the _exact_ opposite of that.”

From nearby, Josef the Alchemist is soothingly rubbing the shoulder of his bushy-haired protege. LaFontaine still doesn’t know her name. Josef says something to her, then stands and approaches them.

“It could get ugly very fast if we force our way. They’ve already had four of their men murdered by a Silas student, we shouldn’t give them any more excuse to attack.”

“Agreed, but we can’t just turn back,” LaFontaine grumbles.They look around at the groups of curiously cautious students. This is no escape plan. 

El Capitán argues, “We’ve got numbers on them, what if we just hold them off and until the students are through the tunnel?” He gestures impatiently at the entrance, and the men stiffen. LaFontaine moves to block their view of the huddle.

“The whole reason those men are here is to stop anyone from Silas crossing into their village. If we charge past, we’ll be walking straight into the pitchforks of angryFövaran-ites.”

“So we’re stuck here, then? Out in the cold?” the Zeta flanking his President protests, wrapping his cloak closed around him. El Capitán holds up a hand, but doesn’t argue with LaFontaine. Perry spreads her hands out between the group, spanning the tension, and says, “For the time being, this is where we’ll stay. Let’s have everyone settle down in the woods, while we come up with a plan.” 

El Capitán nods over his shoulder and tells his flanking officers to set a perimeter for the students. Josef moves back to his protege where she sits on a frozen tree root, and from his coat he produces something small, but it brings a smile to the young girl’s face. She unwraps what looks like a muffin, and takes a bite, crumbs sticking to her cold lips. LaFontaine watches as her eyes come back up to meet theirs, and they send a small tight smile to the girl. She gives a grimacing smile back,pushing up her glasses which reflect the tears underneath, lit up by the turn of someone’s flashlight.

LaFontaine is pulled from watching them by Perry’s elbow squeeze. El Capitán stands with his arms crossed. “So, the plan?”

Perry answers, “We’ll approach this diplomatically. We need to secure safe passage, so how do we that?” She pauses but its clear she already has her answer. “The only way that I can see is to reconcile with the village. We need to be able to speak to someone in charge.”

“We’ll need to convince them to let us pass for that to happen.” El Capitán points out.

“Or we convince them to bring their leader to us. They’ll have to eventually; a handful of men isn’t enough to turn our numbers away, “ LaFontaine nods to him.

“So the question is, how do we convince them?”

“We give them the carrot, of course.”

The Zeta president shakes his head both in confusion, and in an attempt to dislodge the fat snowflake that had fallen onto his left eyelash, “The what?” 

“Of the stick or the carrot,” Perry explains, “we’ll show them its in their best interests to do as we suggest. We just need to sweeten the deal…”

Perry turns LaFontaine around by the shoulders, zipping open their backpack, and pulling from the top the wrapped brownies and sugar cookies from their dorm. LaFontaine frowns when they see what Perry holds, but then shrugs slightly. They were hoping to snack on that near a fire somewhere… but LaFontaine trusts Perry. 

Coming back to the huddle, Perry explains,”I’m working on a thesis for Peace & Conflict Studies, centering around the communal nature of resource sharing, especially in regards to food.”

A single eyebrow on the President’s face disappears under the fringe of his dark hair, his almond eyes wide and doubting, “We’re gonna give them our food? I thought the carrot thing was supposed to be metaphorical.”

“It is both metaphorical, _and_ actual. Negotiations tend to progress much smoother when both parties have shared a meal. It creates trust.”

Josef stands up with his protege, walking behind her as she steps towards their small circle. Josef holds a tight smile behind her as the young girl holds a silver thermos out to Perry. “It’s tea, and still hot. To sweeten the deal.”

Perry smiles so warmly that it seems to envelope the freshman, who melts into a relaxed stance when Perry holds her hands over the thermos. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Ellen.” 

“Thank you Ellen. This will pair deliciously with my _speculoos_.”

“So,” Perry lifts her chin toEl Capitán, “Erik, right? Do you have any offerings for peace?”

Clearing his throat, he motions for his nearby guardsmen to step up to him. He silently waits for the two Zetas to take in the situation, before he un-shrugs his pack off his back, and digs through it in the snow. “I’ve got spiced jerky, from the goat sacrifice. Special Zeta recipe. If this doesn’t warm up those villagers, I doubt anything will.” He hands the jerky package to Perry, then nods to his boys. “Help build a few fires, keep people warm. I’ll be standing with Perry and LaFontaine at the clearing before the tunnel, holding the stalemate while the villagers fetch their authority.”

“Ay, El Capitán,” the Zetas return in unison.

The scowls on the faces of the men guarding the tunnel deepen in shifting shadows from their small fire as Perry, LaFontaine and Erik walk towards them.

Still out of their earshot, LaFontaine asks Erik quietly, “Is the ‘El Capitán’ thing supposed to be a show for power or something?”

Erik shrugs quickly. “When I became President of the frat, we had pirate themed party, and the Zeta House was our war ship. It’s a nickname that stuck, and I just prefer the Spanish ring to it.”

“You didn’t have it legally changed on a bet, then?”

“Not yet.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just change your title from President to Captain?”

“I thought about that the day after the party. But by then we’d signed a Charter on it. So, El Capitán is my name.”

LaFontaine clicks their tongue as they stop before the gang of men, laden with their meager offerings of peace, and their last bit of hope.

 

~~~~

 

Unsheathing another arrow from her sling, Danny sets her recurve bow at eye level, aiming for the back of the huge bear-like demon rushing towards a Summer across the way. It flies true and strikes deep, but doesn’t stop the charging beast. Luckily, the Summer wields a heavy axe, and manages to hold her own. Laura’s voice calls for her attention,“Danny… Aren’t those some of the other vampires from the Dean’s cult?”

Following her line of sight above the hill of the Pit, a group of people stand overlooking the chaos. They’re unarmed, but Danny does recognize one or two of them from the night of the Sacrifice. They’re just standing there, watching. Danny clenches her jaw, “It doesn’t matter. If they’re not here to help, then I’m not wasting my energy on them.” She sets back to scanning the field for fleeing demons, spying one to Laura’s right about 30 yards, and preparing her bow again.

“But what are they waiting for?” And as if in answer to Laura’s question, the waters of the Pit shake in upheaval, and something large and powerful bursts forth from the center of the pond, where the inter-dimensional portal touches and sinks below water. 

“Crawling around the woods like cockroaches, waiting for the Dean to come back and drop them morsels,” Danny says bitterly, ignoring the spectators and firing off her shot to see it sink a would-be escapee.

With near-silence, the bird circling the pond takes another sudden dive, and Danny nearly misses it, it happens so fast. The splash is huge, towering, and the dive is deep, and the next few moments go by absent the flying demi-god.

And then quite spectacularly, the ballooned giant anglerfish, Lophiiformes, is cast out from the water. It flips and flops on its ascent, its strange glowing lure flinging about uncontrollably. It reaches its apex, and starts to reverse its heavenly direction - right into the open beak of the cormorant god, flying up from below. 

The speed at which the bird swallows whole the fish is ludicrously comical. With big gulps, the demi-god devours its prey, and the last ray of light from Lophiiformes’ lure is extinguished.

Danny turns as the Superintendent cheers enthusiastically from the edge of the cliff behind them. Laura lets out barking laugh too, as the bird circles in a descent back to the water, where it splashes down and wiggles itself into a comfortable wadding paddle while it digests its meal. A very bright light has appeared at the bird’s chest, the only reminder of the once-terrifying power of the anglerfish demi-god.

Danny’s eyes drift to the vampire gang again, and is surprised to see that some of them are turning away. They are walking away, some more slowly than others. 

“They’re leaving,” Danny remarks, lifting her bow to indicate.

“I guess with Lophy gone the kidnapping market has taken a turn,” Laura muses, as the edge becomes empty with the vampires’ retreat.

“It’s not over yet,” Danny warns them away from too perfect scenarios where their campus is safe, and back to the situation at hand.

The giant bird in the ocean-pond casually starts snapping up and devouring the upwelling demons and monsters that come to the surface, but it makes no move to aid the Sisters, some of whom are being chased down by large animalistic creatures.

Laura nods grimly, “We’ve still got work to do.” She points with her spear toward the nearest line of Sisters struggling to overtake several monsters at once, but the weapon is too heavy for her right hand, so her left comes up to grab it before it nearly drops.

“Stay close to me, ok?” Danny asks with a touch to Laura’s elbow.

“Lawrence!” someone yells with fervor, and the yell and the _clang_ of a shield being tossed to the ground nearby alerts Danny to the direction of the attack. The hulking mass of bear-demon-creature barrels toward Danny and Laura, too fast, and Danny can’t reset her bow. Thinking fast but not clearly, Danny dives and rolls toward the shield, catching a glimpse of Anell running towards them, but after grabbing it, Danny realizes with horror that the beast did not change its direction to follow her. It hurtles straight on towards Laura.

“LAURA!” Danny yells uselessly, flinging herself to standing but still a distance too far to do much of anything for her. Laura’s face is scrunched up in both fear and anger, and she’s holding her long spear close to her body, aiming the point at the monster. The beast rises up just as Laura stumbles back, and the shaft of her weapon grounds into the earth and holds steady when the beast lunges into it at the shoulder. Caught between the ground and the heavy beast above her, Laura grips the spear tight as the demon roars into her face. Danny runs past with a _smack_ of her shield to the creatures temple, and pulls at Laura’s elbow. The beast clambers back, the spear dislodges from the ground but stays stuck between flesh and bone, and Anell charges from the side and slams her broadsword into the creatures neck.

Danny and Laura stumble over themselves to put distance from the dying creature, and Anell follows them, after yanking her sword back. Her chest huffs with adrenaline as she nods to them both. “Close call,” and Danny prickles at what she thinks is an admonition, but then Anell flips her sword to angle the blade behind her, and lifts the hilt in Laura’s direction. “Good thinking, sticking in like that. These things are ferocious up close, better to let them run into their own ends.”

Laura’s surprise is clear on her face, but Anell leaves as quickly as she arrived, and Laura lets a smile turn up the corners of her still agape jaw. She shares it with Danny, but Danny sighs with exhausted relief instead.

 

~~~~

 

She is surrounded by the water again. The ethereal white void is gone, and above her, Carmilla can see the bright black-light purple surface of the waters, reflecting off the ponderous storm clouds above Silas. She reaches for them.

But with the Dean’s power freshly coursing though her, her mind is awash in languages and plots and truths and lies, and most of all she feels the burning flutter of the wings at her back, having ripped through her shoulder blades, bones bursting, skin scraping.They furl and fold around her confusingly, so Carmilla transforms back into the cat, and the roar she gives is a prehistoric one, trapped in bubbles but no less powerful, and the sound reverberates far,shaking the very edges of the void she is clawing her way out of. 

Reaching the surface is a rebirth.

Floundering in the waters just long enough to appreciate the sting of the wind in her slit eyes, Carmilla’s new appendages stretch and flail against the waves, propelling her forward as her paws and legs kick towards the shore. 

Landing on solid ground is yet another blessing, but one Carmilla lets slip quickly, because sharp eyes have already seen too much of the terror that is fast descending the scattering of people along the shore.

Carmilla runs, the wings of crow feather and sea water still gangly and gruesome above her sleek black fur. 

Her wings arch angrily and push down, and she is lifted, heavily and awkwardly, until a second big _push_ is given, and then another, stretching down only so far as to arch quickly back up -and then her paws stop hitting the ground, and she flies.

She hunts.

She throws a demon back into the abyss, and the sky-splitting portal shivers and swallows the lost creature. In the midst of chaos, Carmilla remembers that she now holds the Dean’s power, feels it itching to be released, and knows with a deep gnawing in her gut that the portal _must_ be closed before the fight is over. The exact answer for how to do that remains elusive in the bog of her mind, still trying to stitch itself together after the severance between two conscious wills.

Carmilla is alerted to the approach before she even hears the flapping of wings from behind her. She turns quickly, her fronts paws stretching their claws for an attack, but the flyer is familiar. 

The Superintendent - John, she remembers - is lifted with her above the ground by two large, beautifully powerful wings, colored slate as a gray eagle’s plumage. His hands are raised in a placating manner, and when he sees that Carmilla won’t attack, he smiles and waves happily.

“It is very good to see you on this plane of existence again, Carmilla.”

Carmilla the Cat won’t speak in her transformation, but her massive feline head looks again to the portal. 

John propels himself to her side, and joins her in her gazing. He seems to understand her confusion. “There is a key, a password of sorts, I’m assuming. The Dean knew this key. Therefore, so do you. Do not believe that anything is hidden from you - it is all within your grasp. Just seek it out.”

Carmilla follows his guidance, the black slits of her green eyes growing wider, absorbing the scene before her, and in her mind, she wills the vision to change, the portal to shudder and heave, the swirling clouds above and the waves below to reverse their directions, and the scar in the world to shrink, all commanded by a word that Carmilla can not give voice to, but that the very core of her knows to be the truth, the key that locks and unlocks.

Vision is replaced with reality, and Carmilla looks below to see the pond sinking, a vortex sucking down the dark shadows that have yet to escape the waves. 

Up from below, the bird flies fast, up towards Carmilla and John, and flaps its wings at them in obvious irritation.Carmilla hears the bird screech in her ears, but her mind starts to filter in an unearthly voice.

_Stop. Close this portal and you will force my offensive against you._

There is an instant rage that fires within Carmilla, but she restrains herself, barely. She looks to John to _sort this shit out._

John acts a mediator again, placing himself between Carmilla and Phalacroe. He closes his eyes and waves invitingly to the bird - then in mid-air, he assumes a cross-legged seat, his wings beating to keep him afloat, his cloak billowing around him. He must be meditating, which annoys Carmilla, but she sees Phalacroe’s sharp eyes close as well. 

For just a moment, the three of them float above the battleground, the pools still slowly shrinking, the portal shuddering but still open, and Carmilla connected but disconnected to the armistice that the Superintendent seems to be striking. 

Carmilla’s tail swishes back and forth in irritancy. Her body starts to sag in tired boredom, the calm giving insight into how badly she wishes to sleep. Her eyes scan the battlefield below, still unable to find the souls she wishes most to see unharmed, her vision instead filled with firey arrows flying through the air, scraggily demons upwelling from dark depths, and frantic chases of escapees that run too close to the edge of the Pit.

The Superintendent opens his eyes, finally, and he fills Carmilla in, “He wants to keep the portal open so that he can feed on the cross-world interlopers at will. The portal requires a powerful guardian, but he refuses to be tied to a feeding schedule that is determined by humans. “

Carmilla blinks her big eyes at him. _So…?_

The Superintendent nods again, “It’s a complicated situation but we’ve reached the possibility for a neat end… If you agree to transfer the portal key to Phalacroe, then we can call this battle over. You can return to your loved ones, and we can start to rebuild.”

Without being guided on how, Carmilla instantly relinquishes power over the portal. She forces her voice into Phalacroe’s consciousness, _Take it, I don’t want it._ It is a light so bright the entire spectrum of visible color shimmers within it, and Phlacroe falters in the sky for a second as an arrow of light shoots from Carmilla’s head and into the demi-god.

“Well,” John sums up, “That takes care of that.”

Carmilla barely spares him a glance before she begins her descent, her eyes immediately searching the ground for a flash of blonde or red hair. Without looking, she knows the portal continues to shrink, and the waters of the abyss still drain; the winds are dying and the heavy sense of worlds unknown pushing into this one slowly lifts.

 

At the edge of the Pit, she spies Kirsch and his blonde friend putting down a demon of smaller stature that was trying to ascend the shifting dirt. They clamber over the edge and run down the slope, and from Kirsch’s wild arm waving and shouts, Carmilla is alerted to Danny’s direction, and Laura’s. Carmilla lands, four paws trampling the ground, with her large, cumbersome wings folding as best as she can manage. Laura, sweet Laura runs to her, wraps her arms around Carmilla’s black-furred neck, and Carmilla nuzzles her for a moment, indulging. 

Carmilla’s body shrinks, her flesh replaces her fur, and she lets Laura guide her weight down to their knees, the dirt staining her bare skin.

“You’ve got wings now,” Danny observes, and Carmilla groans, “They hurt like hell.” She has to grip into the earth and Laura’s thigh, shutting her eyes and blocking out everything else in order to command the wings to shrink back under her shoulder blades. Carmilla grits and grinds her teeth, but manages to keep her painful scream in her throat. The skin at her back does not close fully, and she can feel rivulets of blood trickle along either side of her spine, but she is human once again. She feels Laura’s tentative ministrations, as though her gentle fingers are prodding Carmilla back into her reality. She hears Danny coax Laura to standing, and together they help Carmilla from the ground. Carmilla’s eyes open to a dark green expanse of cloth, held in front of her by Kirsch, who is resolutely looking to the right and blushing. “You can borrow my cloak, Carmilla.”

Unashamed of her nakedness, but grateful for the warmth she is surrounded by, Carmilla lets herself be wrapped up and escorted back to campus, like some sort of heroic legend.

 

~~~~

 

Contrasting with the speed at which the events of the battle took place, the hours following the skirmish are drawn out and tiresome. The Zetas and students at the Tunnel are radio’d an all-clear. Cellular phone service returns with the retreat of the clouds away from campus. The Summers make work of tossing the corpses of defeated demons into Phalacroe’s pond, and with swift scoops, the evidence of the fight is swallowed.

El Capitán, LaFontaine and Perry return with news that the village will be seeking audience with the leaders of Silas. Who exactly that is, remains to be discussed. The Superintendent tries to re-iterate his neutral position, but Perry puts her foot down. “You’ve intervened already, so you’re part of the solution now.” He is tasked with organizing a meeting.

The early hours of dawn reveal Silas University still standing, quiet with just the breeze of the vacating storm rustling the trees. Danny returns to dorm room 307, finding Laura just about finished with dressing the wounds at Carmilla’s back. The brutal transformation may leave scars, but Carmilla is no stranger to those.

Exhausted as never before, Carmilla sleeps instantly. Without much discussion, Laura and Danny drag Laura’s bed across the floor and shove it up against Carmilla’s. Laura curls around Carmilla, and Danny curls around Laura. 

They sleep until some interruption or another barges into their safe haven.

 

~~~~


	18. Chapter 18: Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IT'S THE END, EVERYTHING GETS WRAPPED UP.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you truly for staying with this. For those that had to wait so very patiently for me to finish this story, you are true heroes. May angels sing your praises. The very last words of this epic took their sweet time in forming on my page, but out they finally came, and I’m so grateful and excited and relieved and exhausted (I’ve used that word a lot throughout this work, I’ve realized). 
> 
> Quick! Enough of me blabbing, get to reading!
> 
> word count: 3,100

 

~~Chapter 18: Epilogue~~

The cup is warm in her hand. The kitchen staff had shared sweet smiles with her as she took her hot chocolate to go. A few students nodded and waved in her direction as she passed. There are a few still milling about at the tail end of the A.M. clean-up shift, and like Laura, they’ve stopped here, at the tall edge of the Pit, gazing down at the modest pond shimmering gray under an overcast but calm Sunday mid-morning.

As people very slowly started returning to campus (presumably to grab the things they had left behind, as classes were still cancelled), a clean up brigade was called and volunteered for. The week went by quickly with the hard labor and mental exertion that came with shifting through the debris of a nearly-fallen University. Rooms that had been ransacked in panic had to be put back to order, missing peoples and items needed to be accounted for, and every single weapon from the Summer’s vault had to be put back (some were reluctant to give up their new collection). But soon enough things started to feel…less weird. Laura wonders in a weary daze just _how_ everythingled up to this. She’s no doubt the reprieve from class and essay-related responsibilities has allowed this strange sense of shared happiness and general esprit de corps among the campus. The absence of the familiar sense of doom looming over them is a remarkable comfort. 

Laura watches the ripples rise from the iridescent depths, and the cormorant Phalacroe paddles over easily, tilting its head at a sharp angle, its piercing eye assessing. Before the inter-dimensional demon can even breach the surface, Phalacroe strikes, in and out in a flash, and tilting its head back and stretching its neck, the lump of prey can be seen gobbled and swallowed down the bird’s long throat. The bird shakes its head and ruffles its feathers at the surface in a satisfied manner.

From across the way, Laura looks up as three students laugh at the scene, and they wave to her with smiles. She raises her cup and nods back, smiling with her lips closed. She turns to continue her way back to the library, where she’s due for a shift with LaFontaine and J.P.

Needless to say this semester is a wash, but extra credit has been awarded to students who decide to stay and help the rebuilding efforts (The Lustig Chapel must be reinforced and expanded to cover Phalacroe’s Pond, as some have started to call it). Laura feels just as obligated, since she kinda started the whole mess. It seemed like ages ago when the Dean of Students sent Carmilla to be her spy-roomate-possible-kidnapper and future-girlfriend.

The question of authority within the University is still a question, even a week after the near-calamity of the portal’s opening, and Carmilla’s effective ending of the Dean. The Superintendent will not assume the position, which was never to be the case, anyway. Perry still wants him around as part of the Restoration effort however, and Laura agrees. They need someone with experience, and it seems John with the Angel/Eagle’s wings has got a lot of it. He’s acting as a better mediator than anything, which is beneficial for the near-constant meetings between Summer and Zeta groups.

Campus safety continues to be a motivating crusade for both parties, but neither has quite yet agreed as to how the next authority of the school is to be chosen. Although that’s not to mention the digitized consciousness of the Silas Board of School Governors’ bidding for complete autonomy. But no one’s really even considering that option. Besides, J.P.’s holding them in check quite efficiently.

The chocolate coats Laura’s insides with warmth as she ascends the steps to the library building. The process of rebuilding is a lengthy one, she contemplates.

There are lives to be mourned, still. Tonight there will be a bonfire memorial for not just students and the former Summer Society President, but members of the village Fövaran as well. As a show of good faith, Danny, along with Kirsch, Perry, and the Superintendent, will personally be traveling to the village to attend its own separate service. Laura suspects Danny’s going for more than just the obliged sympathy, but she hasn’t pressed the issue. She sees a look in Carmilla’s eyes, when the funeral for the dead villagers is mentioned around Danny, that leads Laura to believe it’s a memory best left to those that went through it. Laura will not pry.

For now, Laura sips her drink like nectar and sighs, preparing herself for the workload ahead.

 

~~~~

 

“We were in a state of emergency; being a leader in war is miles different from being a leader in peacetime, Kirsch.”

“It’s still leadership experience. And a lot of people still respect you.”

“I find that hard to believe.” She won’t say what she’s thinking, which is, _I gave up._

Kirsch stays adamant. Danny listens to his words while gazing at her lunch, barely touched. 

“You created the alliance. Things may not have gone as planned, but when do they, really? You were still there, in the Pit, with everyone. You didn’t run. You helped protect us.”

“Barely,” Danny says as a joke, but her chuckle sounds forced, so she swallows it with a drink of water. Kirsch remains compassionate with a hand at her elbow.

“We’re all here now. This is our starting line for tomorrow, right?”

“My advice sounds so trite when it comes from someone else,” Danny ducks her head but smiles at Kirsch, who shrugs. He looks about to say something else, but his gaze is drawn over Danny’s shoulder. Danny turns just as Anell reaches their table in the cafeteria.

“Got a minute?” she asks.

“I haven’t made a decision, yet,” Danny returns with mild lethargy.

“I’m here to offer a suggestion, rather.”

“You’ll come back as Summer President?” Danny asks, a bit of bite in her words but nothing exceedingly challenging. She’s too tired for that.

“Not quite. But seeing as Carmen, Justine and I have all returned from a year-long mission with no set plans for our future, we’re considering staying at Silas for a sabbatical summer. “

“I would have thought you’d leave as soon as you were able.”

“There’s no denying this place has a certain hold over some of us.”

“So…you’re staying. Does that mean anything?”

Anell lifts her eyebrows and shoulders in a shrug. “It doesn’t have too. But there’s work to do within the Society, work that could take the whole summer to sort through.” Anell approaches a stepcloser. “I imagine it’s a lot to think about, still.”

“An understatement.” Danny looks straight into Anell’s face, “So if not President, then VP? You would take over the clean-up?”

Anell sighs dramatically. “We didn’t come back to usurp you, Danny. I’m not here to replace you as VP, nor become the next Summer President. I’ve graduated, I’ve got my own path to follow. I simply care for my family, same as you. I’m trying to help my Sisters, to whom I remain faithful.”

Danny holds onto her guard for just a second longer, before she too sighs away her defense. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just not used to taking the backseat. And I’m so _tired_.”

“Then rest.” Anell sits down next to Danny, finally welcomed at the table. “I’d like to go the village service with you tonight. Offer my condolences, my support.”

Danny looks at Kirsch who’s been silent this whole time. He nods quickly, assuringly, “The maintenance department has 3 ATV’s for upper campus, we’re heading out in a couple hours. There’s room.”

Danny looks back to Anell. “I think I would appreciate that.”

Anell shares a small smile and offers a hand for Danny to shake. “We’ve still got time to make the big decisions. We’ll get through it one hurdle at a time.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time,” Danny agrees, leaning back over her nearly forgotten food, trying to ignore the cold distaste.

 

~~~~

 

Carmilla watches his approach through near darkness. The night has grown late following the memorial services held both in the town and the small village in the valley.

He nods to Carmilla as he reaches the door to his office. By the Superintendent’s calm, she wonders if he has been expecting her to come collect her inheritance. Speaking briefly, she tilts her head to the double doorway she leans next to, the administrative wing with the Dean’s Office. Together they pass under the yellow caution tape and step over the melted door of the now unprotected office. Carmilla finds her senses electrified with the familiarity of the room, and the strange absence of her Mother’s aura within it, the various objects somehow less impressive without the meaning Mother breathed into their existence.

Carmilla tells John he may pilfer whatever collectibles he may want, as Carmilla has no need nor want for most of the Dean’s possessions. She does however, go to an elegant wall draped in green and red velvet. Behind the heavy veil she finds a file cabinet, nondescript but full of Mother’s financial information, the boring bank accounts and property deeds and cash laundering operations across lower Styria. She knows exactly what she will find in these folders of paper trails; all of her Mother’s secrets are now free and readily accessible within Carmilla’s mind. She’ll take what she needs now and peruse the rest of her inheritance at a later time.

A pang of sharp feeling hits Carmilla’s chest as she pulls something from behind the folders she never thought she would see again.

A book of children’s songs, German kinder tales and school yard rhymes. It was a gift from Ell, a book Carmilla cherished until the day it and Ell were snatched away from her. What it’s doing hidden in Maman’s office is a question that tightens Carmilla’s throat. It falls open easily in her hands, splitting itself where a thin piece of parchment has bookmarked the pages. The paper has Carmilla’s elegant handwriting on it, lines of poetry filling the whole sheet, speaking pretty words of the stars and the sweetness of youth and chocolate and the blonde color of angels’ hair, and Mother had always told her she had a way with words, whatever the language they may belong -

Carmilla snaps the book closed, remembering she is not alone. She moves to drop the book back into the dark recess of the cabinet, before her eyes spy the trinket there. A long and beautifully gray owl’s feather, wrapped at the base with twine and a line of simple beads. As she pulls it out, she remembers it from Will’s phase in the 1960s when he traveled around California for awhile. She never cared to learn its significance to him, but when he came back he gifted it to Mother, and she actually _smiled_ at him. It was something so genuine and kind and truly rare when it came to Will, that it spurred a warmth in her that she had to shake out later that night.

The Dean had kept these mementos of her children, not displayed like her many exotic wares and collected artifacts and foreign books, but stashed away where important things were kept. Carmilla’s head reels and she has to close her eyes to regain trajectory.

Her shoulder blades itch beneath the bandages Laura faithfully redresses every morning. Turning, she finds John watching her.

The Superintendent reminds her, “She was human once. In her pursuit for knowledge and power, she perhaps forgot her humble beginnings. I imagine she tried to bury them. But she couldn’t keep her memories in the ground, so to speak.”

Carmilla tilts her head with irritancy at the Super, but does not take her eyes off the objects in her hand.

“Power may be the ultimate temptation, but Balance is the perfect state, and it is irrelevant if there is no flux. There is nothing wrong with having darkness within you - it offers the space for a light to shine.”

Carmilla doesn’t say anything, because she’s learned that if people like her Mother or John have something to say, they will say it, eventually. And Carmilla’s learning how to take that in with a little more open-mindedness.

“Anyway, if you’re having troubles with focus, I might advise taking up meditation. A quiet mind allows one to better listen to oneself.”

“ Yogi nonsense,” Carmilla sneers with head tilt leading toward the exit. Their sortie into the past and all its conundrums is over, for now.

“It’s non-thinking, that’s the goal,” John allows himself to be led out with a bright smile.

 

~~~~

 

“Fuck me.”

Danny’s ears turn red at the tips and she flips the page of Carmilla’s Paris travel guide, but is no longer reading.

“C’mon, you…” Laura’s voice echoes off the bathroom mirror, and Danny realizes with a small chuckle what she must be doing.

“Laura? Are you trying to pop it?”

“No…” A defeated sigh. “…Yes. Its right there above my eye, it’s the most distracting and unholy thing I’ve ever seen.”

“No, that’d be me, sweetheart,” Carmilla bursts to life in a puff of inky smoke, effortlessly dropping her bag to floor as she drapes herself across the bed, as well as Danny.

“Impressive entrance,” Danny obliges with a blush at her cheeks as Carmilla lays herself over Danny’s hip, stretching her back and craning her neck upside down. Her voice cracks slightly as she explains, “Neat power update: I can hear conversations within the spaces I’m about to materialize.”

“Helps explain the Dean’s super-hearing.” Carmilla doesn’t respond but Danny doubts the mention would upset her. Still, she changes subjects.

“Laura’s trying to pop a zit.” Danny raises her voice, “But she knows that only makes it worse!”

Laura harrumphs from the bathroom, and turns on the water. While she washes her face, Carmilla leans into Danny, eyebrows flirting.

“So… _sentiments pour Paris_? I’ve just come into some money.”

Danny blushes deeper because Carmilla’s French is quite possibly the most attractive sound ever, and really she rather feels off guard because the more intimate she’s become with Laura and Carmilla, the more Carmilla seems to be showing off. If it weren’t for the flirting, which happens often and mostly in a teasing backhanded sort of way, Danny just might think that Carmilla was acting as Alpha. 

“We can’t just leave the school in a wreck and go on a vacation. We’re a big part of the restoration.”

“Ok, but what if we just _did_?” Carmilla returns to her usual drawl. “Wouldn’t that be so much better? The three of us in a city of strangers, the wine we’d drink, the poems I’d write, the delectable pastries - “ 

Danny moves to push Carmilla off her, “Paris isn’t going to solve our problems.” She huffs and swings her legs over the side of the bed. Looking back at Carmilla over her shoulder, Danny sees her keep a scrutinizing gaze from under a curtain of her hair. “What’s up with you?” Her eyes narrow and she follows Danny to the edge of the bed.

They share a silent exchange of looks and eyebrow quirks, and weirdly, everything translates.

_I can’t just leave._

_Why not? Obligation?_

Danny is tight lipped and narrow-eyed. Carmilla gives voice to her argument.

“You’ve done your part. We’ve made our sacrifice, and we’ve all come out of it alive. Can’t we be selfish? Even if it’s just for a time?”

Danny visibly softens. Carmilla adds, “Can’t we dream?”

It’s too romantic, too swaying.

“It’s too surreal,” Danny admits, the redness in her cheeks finally subsiding, but the tips of her ears still feel hot. With Laura still preoccupied, Danny lets some of her fears vocalize.

“You’ve got more reasons to be carefree. You’ve risen from the grave -thrice, now? You’ve defeated your literary-trope foe _and_ got some kind of closure about your mom.”

“It was not without challenge, “ Carmilla drawls familiarly, “But go on.”

Danny shakes her forehead loose, “You ‘re victorious, basically. Meanwhile it feels like all we did was dodge a very nasty bullet. I don’t feel victorious or powerful, I feel like the earth could still crumble right under my feet. And I feel like any one of us could be gone, any moment…”

Carmilla sighs, is trying to be patient, and looks between her hands. 

As gently as Danny’s ever seen her, Carmilla flexes her hands in a way as though carrying a very precious bundle,”Your world has shattered. It may not have fallen apart just yet, but the cracks are visible.”

Danny nods with the sudden realization of, “Yea…”

Carmilla hesitates, but smiles at the very corner of her mouth. “This is a lesson.”

“What?” Danny asks.

She blinks and drops her hands, one of them finds Danny’s knee. The pressure is light.

“I felt the same in the ground. Time didn’t exist but it was fucking forever, I knew that. My perception of my reality completed shifted. It had to, probably.”

Her eyes finally reach Danny, and Danny is bewitched.

“It took me a long time to feel like I could breathe again.”

“You don’t breathe,” Danny whispers, because they’re close now in their commiseration, their vulnerableness.

“I’d like to…” Carmilla’s eyes waver between Danny’s, “I’d like the sensation of fullness in my lungs.”

“What’s up, guys?” Fresh-faced and brimming, Laura exits the bathroom with her hair still up. The tail of her bun splays out in spunky rays and her hips are canted like she wants to put her hands on them.

Carmilla cracks into an easy grin and the spell is broken. But Danny does feel better a bit.

She huffs a small laugh as she answers, “Talkin’ about Paris, maybe. Maybe taking a breather.”

“Excellent!” Laura exclaims and she rushes to flop onto the beds that are still pushed together and grabs Carmilla’s travel guide. “So I’ve already tumblr-discovered a bunch of cute chocolatiers that we should probably hit up. I’ve got Christmas money that’s in desperate need of being exchanged for decadence.”

 

~~FIN~~BYE~~THANKS~~

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes I will be writing a smut OT3 fic for Paris, if that’s something you need.
> 
> A/N 2: gimme like two weeks tho.
> 
> A/N 3: GOSH thank you again for reading, I really hope at least some of it made you go like, “Hmmmmm… yea. Yea. Yes.”


	19. The Perfect Lustful Parisian Holiday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3,000 words of fluff and touristing in the most romantic city in the world (according to Carmilla). 
> 
> Dedicated to user @BCRebel <3

~~~~

 

Laura’s phone is brightly kaleideiscope-colored with a map of Paris, blinking her blue dot location in real time as Carmilla leads her by the hand. Danny’s steps are a little longer than Laura’s, but the movement of her red head, swiveling from sights to sounds and back again, makes her slower in gait. Danny’s shoulders and arms are busy with bags, not much, but enough for a week or so away.

Carmilla takes them to an extraordinarily common-looking maison building near Cimetière du Pere Lachaise. Laura knows Oscar Wilde is buried there. There in the cemetery, not there in the hotel. Which isn’t a hotel actually, more like a bed’n’breakfast, and a young man and his younger sister welcome Carmilla generously after she graciously hands them a wad of cash and a lovely story about their dearly departed parents. They are instantly charmed, and she, Laura and Danny are instantly presented the keys to the best room at the inn. Seven levels up, the narrow rounding staircase is a bit of a climb, but at each landing are paintings or photographs of stairs, teasing ironies that Laura enjoys. She giggles at every rounding corner. Eugene Atget’s dizzying staircase and speeding cyclist hangs in the hallway on their floor, distracting Danny from the reveal of their room as Carmilla and Laura traipse excitedly through the door. 

When Danny finally enters, she drops the bags heavily to the carpet. The room is effortlessly Parisian with flowing light and draped lamps, small tables and an elegantly carved couch. The bed, the centerpiece of the room, is large. Danny feels a warmth creep up her neck as she watches Laura flip onto it, while Carmilla slinks to the window. Carmilla beckons her over with a head tilt, so Danny closes the door behind her and makes to investigate the view.

The balcony looks out across the small street to a set of exactly the same windows, but within the symmetry lies character, with a mix of hanging laundry, potted plants, herb gardens and wind chimes. They splash color across the tan facades and gray rooftops.

“I lived here only very briefly, but it was enough. I was utterly charmed,” Carmilla sighs in a relaxed nostalgia. 

“You fell in love with a city. I hear this is the one to do it,” Danny smiles, leaning on the window frame and watching a citizen dismount their moped and carry a sack of groceries with a characteristic loaf of bread protruding from the top.

“Places change over time, as do people. But Paris will somehow always have its magic. It’s immortally romantic, in a way.”

“Like you,” Danny’s eyebrows perk up and Carmilla smiles with mirth.

“One could never be as romantic as _Paris,”_ Carmilla flirts and her fingers find their way to the cotton strings of Danny’s Summer Society hoodie.

Laura calls from the bed, “Soooo - we’re doing this,” she points to the bed under her, “This first, right?”

“Should we… like, talk about it?” Danny asks, that warmth from earlier creeping back up her neck. She notes that her hands are already on Carmilla’s hip andelbow, however.

Carmilla clicks her tongue and turns towards Laura. “Do we need to have safeword?”

“…No?” Laura suggests but she’s looking at Danny, who shrugs with a blush, “If I think of something, I’ll say it.”

Carmilla’s hands pull Danny’s cotton drawstrings towards the bed. “I’m sure we’ll pick it up after a few rounds.”

Danny inhales through her nose, and Laura bits her lip. Carmilla’s hands lift off her shirt.

 

~~~~

 

The Seine is green in the morning, a dark sage green that pulls the eye, searching for a sparkle of reflection. The late-winter/early-spring breeze ripples in chicken skin prickling its way over Laura as Carmilla’s boot curves the back of her calf under the table.Laura holds her porcelain cup of coffee tighter, warming her fingers and shooting Carmilla glances whenever she gets too bold. Danny steals the croissant that came with Carmilla’s hot chocolate, taking a big bite in front of her. Carmilla is nonplussed and reaches to Danny’s saucer, taking her cup and stealing several sips. At a stalemate, Danny extends her open palm to Carmilla’s thieving hand. Her cup and saucer are replaced, and Danny’s fingers wrap around Carmilla’s on the table.

They are simply three young women playing tourist and eating up sweets and romance.

 

~~~~

 

A cloud of yellowed dust rises as Carmilla scrapes a metal chair out from the table and sits heavily into it. Laura excitedly points to a big red-and-white umbrella’d vendor selling colorfully cute macaroons, and is trotting off saying she’ll come back with two for each of them.

The Louvre stands across the bridge, reflecting itself into the river waters. Outside the museum, the three of them disappear amongst passing strangers, wonderfully appreciative that no one here knows their names or where they’ve come from or the apocalypse they narrowly avoided. The freedom lets Laura be extra sweet and engaging with people, and she’s practically buzzing with probably awkward but definitely endearing conversation with the vendor. 

Halted in the middle of an elbow nudge to Carmilla and nod toward Laura, Danny inclines her head to get a better view of a face worn with worry under Carmilla’s sunhat.

“Hey… are you tired? The sun’s been out a lot today.”

“Not from this, no. It actually doesn’t bother me as much as it used to.”

“Then what’s up?”

“Just thinking about the reason why that is… thinking about my mother.”

Danny’s eyes squint against the breeze kicking up loose dirt from the path. “She’s been vanquished. And we’re on holiday - you don’t have to hold on to that stuff.”

Carmilla tilts her head but gives no response. Danny tries again, “Then tell me what you’re thinking.”

A long inhale. “She’s not _gone._ ”

“She can’t hurt us anymore.”

“But I can. I can do so much damage. Especially now, I see how she worked, how she manipulated and controlled, and I see how very easy it is.” Carmilla’s rushed breath hitches in her chest, her eyes watering just at the corners, “… and the knowledge sickens me.”

Danny stands behind Carmilla and places a hand on her shoulder. With no other words to offer, her other hand mirrors, and her knees lower to the dusty ground. Both hands slide down and Danny leans in to cross her arms protectively over Carmilla’s chest, holding her in a hug.

“There are some things we have to endure knowing,” Danny whispers to the Seine waters floating by. 

Laura approaches them. Carmilla shifts her head slowly, bringing her hand up to caress Danny’s face.Danny walks to help unburden Laura, and Laura scoots into the chair next to Carmilla, observant of her now dour mood.

“Sooo, what’s up? And, do you prefer mocha or chocolate coconut?”

“Just thinking sad thoughts, my love. And mocha, by far.”

“Good, so Danny gets choco-coco, and then the rest I think are random fruits that end in ‘-erry’, so just pick a color I guess.”

Laura slides herself ever closer to Carmilla’s side and brushes her hair from her eyes. With a sweet smile, Laura’s thumb swipes Carmilla’s lower lip, and the mocha macaroon is placed delicately to Carmilla’s mouth. In a soft, sweet moment, a macaroon each is chewed between them. Carmilla licks her lips before speaking again

“I lose track sometimes. There are so many memories in my head now.” The Seine keeps hold of Carmilla’s gaze, its quiet waves suddenly noir under overcast grey skies. “I wonder when it’ll become too much, when my reality will finally blur beyond recognition.”

Laura presses her cheek against Carmilla’s. “Maybe you should write a book. Keep the facts straight.”

Carmilla leans into her. “Maybe.” She is handed her second macaroon (pastel rose, probably straw- or raspberry).

Laura is gentle and forgiving in pulling Carmilla from those moments of intense introspection; Danny will sometimes offer her debate, asking questions that drive Carmilla back to a semblance of reality. When the moment passes, but just before the thoughts waft away completely, Carmilla wonders, just a flicker of a vision, of what a creature she might be without these two young women here with her in these circumstances.

(The macaroon was cherry.)

~~~~

 

Danny’s eyes are clearest indigo blue in the afternoon sun creeping its way past white thin drapes. Carmilla sits on Danny’s stomach, running a hand lazily down Danny’s fair arm, her tightening abs. Danny’s blue-blue eyes are searching Carmilla’s for some sort of quip, but Carmilla is quite relaxed, and now is one of those times where Carmilla is quiet, is more observant, more present. But Danny can’t believe it. “What?” she asks with a lifted chin and smirk.

“Shh.”

Danny’s stomach huffs out its air and lifts Carmilla slightly. “What?” she repeats.

“The moment. You’re ruining it.”

“It was ruined when Laura left the bed.”

“No, that was the start of it. Now this one’s ending, and Laura’s starting another one.” Carmilla reaches behind her, “C’mere.”

“I’m here, I’m here. Nature called,” Laura excuses herself and curls her knees into Danny’s side and turns towards Carmilla. Laura wears Danny’s large t-shirt and it becomes crumpled again under Carmilla’s fingers.

~~~~

 

Carmilla’s back is still red in certain splotches along her shoulder blades. Laura runs a salve over them often, whenever she feels like it, really, and Carmilla lets her. She’ll curl up and almost purrs.

Laura suspects Danny and Carmilla may have started an unspoken redmark war over Laura’s body. Danny doesn’t let Carmilla bite her, but Laura has made it clear that she enjoys it, and now whenever one is busy drawing Laura’s more immediate attention, the other tends to find a spot, like her collarbone or just below her ear, and starts sucking away.

Laura doesn’t have many scars. She’s familiar with bruises yes, from krav maga and general clumsiness/hyperactivity. If she looks closely in the right light, she can see a shiny mark on her neck from the night Carmilla saved her from Will.

The redmarks will fade, and Laura will probably earn more scars as she grows. But for right now, she’ll keep close to Danny and Carmilla, regardless of how deep the marks may be.

~~~~

 

There were plenty of awkward moments at the start. In the thralls of passion, slack faces and careless, gargled moans and wet sounds would threaten to shake the reverie of what was trying to paint itself as the Perfect Lustful Parisian Holiday. The weird moments could be scuttled away by silly grins and genuine laughter, but there were other awkward moments too, when distraction wasn’t enough.

Unbidden thoughts could starve the room of its heat, thoughts similar to “Is this really happening?” and a moment of reality would try to ignite itself, to reassemble the pieced events that led them all here. Worse still would be the occasional jolt of reality that exists for them back at Silas, reminding Danny of her Sisterhood in near shambles, Laura left worrying about how the next semester would attempt to rectify the loss of the previous, and Carmilla… 

A lot has changed especially for her, but Carmilla is a master of suspended disbelief, and that’s what this whole week is about, and Laura is a believer in pretty words and prettier ideals, and Danny is finding herself more and more willing to ease her grip on the things she thinks are real, and rather allowing thesurreal to open her palm.

Just as Carmilla does now, nudging Danny’s fingers open with the edge of her chin, pressing Danny’s hand to her cool cheek, and flickering the light between her eyes.

Carmilla kisses the scar on Danny’s palm, on the wedge of skin between thumb and forefinger, the thin scar from the pocket knife she used to dig carmilla free from the entombed Pit.

Carmilla guides Danny’s hand to rest at Carmilla’s shoulder, and using her close proximity, ushers Danny to the wall behind. Danny is pressed against it with an agitated sigh, her eyes wavering but never leaving Carmilla’s.

“Not nervous, are we? It’s your fantasy, Amazon,” Carmilla teases, pressing a little closer.

“No nicknames in bed,” Danny resists, grounding herself. Carmilla easily slides a hand around Danny’s hips and stomach beneath her shirt. Laura is quiet but eyes-bright curled up on the bed.

A hitch catches in Danny’s breath when Carmilla angles herself between Danny’s legs, and lifts with her hips - 

“Don’t -“ Danny licks her lips, looking down into Carmilla’s eyes, “Don’t hurt me.” Danny tries to make herself hard after the words, but they are too inherently vulnerable to be any other way.

Carmilla smiles, “I couldn’t promise you that, Danny. Couldn’t promise anyone that. But I can say that I’ll try.” Carmilla kisses her fully. “I’ll try.”

Danny’s heels lift from the ground, the wood behind her hips creaks with the pressure of Carmilla pressing Danny bodily up and into it, and Danny’s hands find Carmilla’s shoulders for balance. A slow, burrowing rhythm begins between the two of them, breaths laboring instantly.

Purple is the color of the curve of Danny’s hips for the next few days after that, but Danny doesn’t mind because both Laura and Carmilla are sure to star-shower the darker areas with kisses and poetic murmurs.

~~~~

 

The multitude of white sheets and overabundance of white pillows is a blessing, Laura finds. The white is pretty, is soft, and it’s sometimes the last thing Laura has to hold on to, before she is abandoned over her precipice by Danny’s fingers or Carmilla’s lips. At this exact moment she’s really not sure who is who, or who is I orif I is we, but she’s got a tight grip on the sheets at a 45 degree angle from her hips, leveraging her bucking hips higher into whoever is giving her this intense pleasure.

She makes a strangled cry and a flush burns its way deeper across her cheeks. Still careening towards something and quite nearly there, Laura desperately flings a hand into the pillow above her head, pressing it down over her face to hide what is sure to be a rather abandoned look. She moans loudly into it, thankful for the silencer, but it is pulled away roughly before her moan is through, and she cuts it loudly short into a kind of growl. Suddenly Carmilla is there, in her face, and their mouths connect wetly with heat, and someone other than Laura moans, and she feels vibrations all around her and over her and within her, and she can’t see the white sheets anymore because she’s shut her eyes, and maybe she sees something white flash behind them, but it’s gone in an instant and anyway she’s falling now, just gone gone gone.

As the heat cools, Danny slides up next to Laura and traces paths across her brow and into her hair, following the curve of her hairline behind the shell of her ear. Carmilla occupies herself by arranging the white sheets in romanesque curls and hills around Laura’s hips, her fingers also tracing paths.

Between Carmilla and Danny, there’s a spark of horseplay. A challenge beckoning to be overthrown, so much so that Danny is prone to giving a victorious laugh when Carmillacomes undone from her touch.

Between Laura and Danny is something Carmilla is intrigued by; it's a love that is gentle but guided and always asking, never taking, and cyclical, and it mesmerizes her for a moment, losing herself in the tremor of Danny's lips and the flash in Laura's eyes.

Between Carmilla, Laura and Danny is something electrically complex and magnetically drawn, neither is too far away from the other but there's a swirling involved, wrapping around them in a ocean cyclone, salty and rushing.

 

~~~~

 

The orange sunset blurs as Carmilla leads Laura across the room, sweeping and side-stepping and waltzing with the carefree control . 

Quickly, Carmilla lifts Laura’s hand across them, guiding her to spin and pulling her close, offering her own glass of champagne under Laura’s nose. She bashfully nods and takes the glass, drinking down the last of the bubbles as she feels Carmilla unabashedly drink her in.

“You know, there are whole eternities in little moments like these. Memories that stay for centuries.” Carmilla brushes locks of Laura’s hair from her brow and cheeks.

“I don’t know what to say when you use pretty words like that,” Laura says with a full-endearing half-pout.

“That’s the point,” Carmilla’s eyebrows climb before angling down to capture Laura’s lips. The kiss is soft and tart.

“I appreciate you allowing my philosophic murmurings.” Carmilla whispers to Laura’s ears. “I appreciate the way you make me appreciate things.”

Laura holds Carmilla close, “I appreciate you saying that.”

“Thought you might.”

~~~~

 

Black as the night, Carmilla’sfur coat shimmers with nothingness as her feline eyes peer down below the balcony window. Danny and Laura, lazily strewn across each other on the bed, both watch Carmilla’s tail flicker just at the tip, a clear indication of her excitement.

_I’m going to roam_ a voice says in their ears, shocking a surprised gasp into Laura and a strong jerk from Danny, until they realize Carmilla’s spritely green-yellow eyes are gazing pointedly at them. Laura quirks her head, starting to ask, “Did she just…?” but Carmilla’s psychic voice doesn’t answer, and instead the large black cat pounces from her perch and down, out the large window.

Having left the room without them, the sight of wings suddenly buffeting Carmilla back up into view and on towards the moon is nearly as shocking as her telepathy was.

“She’s showing off,” Danny says with a pout in her lip and wondering eyes. 

“It’s working.” Laura turns to Danny, “We’re dating someone _super_ -natural.” She breaks into a wide grin and Danny falls back on the bed, struck down by endearment. “And in Paris, no less.”

“After having just saved the world,” Laura leans her chin back into her hand and reaches for strands of Danny’s hair. 

“Or a part of it, anyway.”

“Us, at least.”

“At least.”

“How long do you think we can stay in this bubble?” Laura asks.

Danny sobers and pulls Laura closer by hooking her foot over her calves.“I guess, bubbles aren’t really meant to last long, are they? But maybe by just knowing it’s a bubble will help when the pop comes.”

Laura pouts, “You’ve made popping bubbles a sad thing now.”

“You started it! But I can fix it.”

“Please do.”

“I know where there’s more bubbly.”

 

~~FIN FIN FIN BYE ~~


End file.
